Unfaithful Savior
by warriorfreak
Summary: A disease has ravished the Clans, killing all but one tom, the quiet mistreated Faithpaw, who withstands the worst of bullying and the heart of war just to maybe see the one she-cat he loves. Character death, graphic violence, and heavy coarse language.
1. One

**Summary: A disease has ravished the Clans, killing all the males and leaving only the she-cats. Only one tom remains, a scrawny apprentice named Faithpaw. Brought up by the expectations of being the one to bring the species back. And he wants no part of it.**

**This is a remake of my original hit story, Unfaithful Savior. I was rereading it and I found I liked my ideas, base plot and some aspects of the plot, but I really hated the way it was written and the way I carried the story. It's been two years and I am a much better writer now, so I want to give it another shot and see what the outcome is.**

**To anybody who hasn't the original and wants to read this, don't read the original. This isn't a sequel or anything and you don't have to have read the original to understand it. Besides, this one will probably be better. **

**To anybody who read the original and wants to give this a try, go ahead.**

**ONE**

Her mate was clasped in her jaws. His body; the strong handsome body that would wind around her, that would protect her from any harm was now secured between her trembling jaw.

It was raining. The kind of rain that's loud and wet and makes the top of the ground run like a river but never seems to soak into the earth. The kind of rain that stings your back and ears as it hammers down onto your skin.

The rain drowned out the she-cat's moans and cries. Her anguish wept from her body like tears. Her shock, her grief, her exhaustion. Her hate at what was happening.

What was happening. Why did this have to happen?  
Gasping, she stumbled to a halt and her mate dropped out of her jaws. She panted hard, head down, rain dribbling off her fur. Her mate's body was cold and stuff on the ground, it'd been that way for several minutes now. As she caught her breath she poked his body, nudged his chest with her paw. "Oakleaf," she rasped, "Oakleaf." She knew he was dead, of course she did, Spottedflight wasn't stupid. But it was just the sheer realism that he was dead, like everyone else.

That this even had to happen.

She was bent on taking his body to camp. She clasped him up again and dragged his body onward, stumbling in the mud and over roots and vines. His paws and tail left tracks in the wet ground. He felt heavier now, his pelt was soaked in water and the lack of movement had stiffened up his muscles.

"Come on, I can do this," she panted around his scruff. "If I can just make it to camp."

She could smell the bile rising from his fur; the awful reek of sickness. It had consumed him, consumed his entire body and left him like this. She wished he had been slain, and then there would be something she could hate, something she could swear vengeance on. But the sheer power of something bigger and stronger than she was heartbreaking.

Camp. It was there. The ThunderClan camp. So familiar. Spottedflight slid down into it, stumbling and rolling over her own body and the stiff body of her mate. They landed in the clearing, her twisted around his unmoving form. She lay panting, caked in mud.

Some she-cat's ran over. Midnightstar and Greenspots, the medicine cat.

"What were you doing out in this storm?" Greenspots hissed, easing her onto her paws and leading her to the sheltered medicine cat den.

"It was for Oakleaf," she sobbed, "We were on patrol together with...Sunclaw and Dewstripe when the storm hit."

"And Sunclaw and Dewstripe are..." Greenspots rasped carefully.

"Like him, just like him," Spottedflight wailed, voice dying. "the sickness must have been on one of the squirrels we caught."

Greenspots said nothing, shaking her head sadly. What a waste, she thought. What a waste for the lives of all the toms. Only Browntail and Silverstorm were left. They were running out of room for graves. The she-cats who remained, the survivors who none of whom had yet seemed to get the sickness had stopped attending the death ceremonies. It was understandable, seeing that much death, being so close to so much loss and pain was not something cats enjoyed.

Greenspots lay Spottedflight down in her den, washed her fur with water-soaked moss. Murmured words to sooth her. Dressed the scratches she'd received from her struggle through the woods. Stroked her ears. She knew she didn't have to worry about Spottedflight or any of the she-cats. The disease that was tearing apart all four Clans only effected the toms, and when it hit them none came out alive. Greenspots felt guilt, felt hatred at herself because there was nothing she could do. She'd tried every herb, every poultice, every sap she could think of. Nothing had even helped. All she could do was sooth those who'd lost loved ones.

And her fear, her constant fear. Without any toms, what would happen to the Clans? If there was nobody left to breed with...

It was the next day that the news was brought in of Browntail and Silverstorm's deaths. Greenspots looked over the bodies, smelt the sickness on their fur. It was clear what had ended their lives.

"Why this?" Wailed Amberwind, who had been Browntail's love and mate-to-be. "Why does he have to die? Why do they all have to die?" She cried louder and longer until Greenspots led her off to lay down in her den.

It was still raining. Would it not stop raining? It was like a dark omen, hiding the stars from them at night. As if StarClan had abandoned them.

No, the medicine cat thought, I can't think that and I won't. Of course they are still watching over us, have something in store for us. There must be a reason for this, for all the death...I must wait for a sign. A sign will come.

Midnightstar called a meeting. The cats, wet, bedraggled and wracked by grief that had led to dark, careless demeanors gathered slowly around her, a medley of gray in the storm. The amount of them had been halfed. Greenspots watched with despair. A queen led her two she-kits out to stand below the highledge. She'd had a little tom kit too, but his life had been ripped from him instantly.

"Cats of ThunderClan," Midnightstar said darkly, softly. Some cats had to strain to hear. "I'm sure all of you are aware of what is going on. And now we have no more toms. I have been informed by the leaders of the other three Clans that their populations too consist of only females. This is the fault of none of us. However, we are ThunderClan. We will not give up to this. We will find away to continue on, whatever that may be. We will take desperate measures. Immediately after this meeting I will send a patrol of three out to the Horseplace and surrounding areas to look for toms. We will recruit any of them on sight."

"But what if they die in the sickness too?" Asked Amberleaf.

"We can only hope the sickness has killed itself out. With no more specimens to feed off of, it cannot keep spreading."

"What about Fallenheart's litter?" It was an apprentice who spoke, gesturing to the overly pregnant she-cat who glanced nervously at everyone. "Suppose she gives birth to a tom?"

"That may be one of our only hopes," Midnightstar whispered, 'Whatever it is that StarClan sends us as hope, we will fight to protect it and out species. We will not stop! We will not give up hope!"

That evening the patrols returned. Reports were bad. The horseplace and other non-Clan areas that had been searched were said to also be empty of toms and the she-cats who lived there had been witness to them dying. One patrol had also spoken to an elderly traveler who had said she came from the Twolegplace by the mountains. She said she'd come out here looking for a new mate after the illness had swept the Twolegplace free of males.

Moods were dim. Hope was dying. Midnightstar's words of encouragement worked less and less on the cats. Some cats stopped working. The rain refused to cease. Midnightstar didn't know what to do.

Then hope came again, just a little seed of hope, and it came with the kitting of Fallenleaf. She lay on her bed of moss and feathers and cried and wailed as the whole Clan watched. Greenspots hovered beside her, calling out encouragement and instructions. Before long she'd given birth to a tiny wet bundle. It was immediately licked clean and turned over for the gender to be discovered. The cry went up; it was a male.

"What will you name him?" Greenspots whispered happily as the tiny kit latched onto his mother and suckled heartily, kneading her furry belly.

"I...I call him Faithkit," Fallenleaf rasped, exhaustion closing her eyes. "We all have faith in him right?"

"Yes, yes it's perfect," Greenspots murmured, as the Clan leaned in toward the kit.

"He's a savior," Fallenleaf mumbled, falling into sleep. "A little star. A...savior."


	2. Two

**There's some swearing in this chapter. Please do not say anything about the cat's using human swears. I know that and I did it on purpose.**

**Replies to Anonymous Reviews **

**lassy10- Well, I can't promise anything yet XD**

**red eagle- Thank you for the kind review! Unfortunately, I got a lot of suggestions after the sad ending of the first one, so I can't promise anything. But I do have something in mind!**

TWO

"He's different, that one."

"He's male, isn't he?"

"Yep."

"Ouch. Poor guy."

"I think it's tough luck."

"His problem, eh?"

"Haha. Yep."

"Hmm."

"He's got a fever again."

"The sickness?"

"Nope. That's different. He's just got a weak immune system."

"Ha. Kinda hoped the only tom would've been a bit more impressive."

"Me too, Midnightstar."

"Huh."

The sound of feet, walking farther away.

"The other apprentices don't like him. Say he's different."

"Ha! He is."

"Yep. Hahaha."

There voices echoed, bubbled about the shadowy medicine cat den. Fathpaw lay on his back, looking up at the fern roof. Listening without making a sound. Listening to the words they thought he couldn't hear.

"I'll leave him alone for tonight. It's a good time to gather herbs."

"Gotcha, Greenspots. You're a good cat."

"Sure thing."

Faithpaw felt the heat of the fever spreading across his cheeks and he narrowed his eyes, mouth hanging slightly open. Greenspots had covered him in grass up to his chin, and it hadn't done anything but increase the flame of illness.

_'He's different, that one.'_

He knew. Faithpaw knew. He wasn't going to say he was normal. He wasn't going to argue otherwise.

"Hey, pig!"

Faithpaw held very still in his nest of grass, hoping they wouldn't notice him.

"Pig? Pig? Are you in there?" He could hear them laughing amongst themselves, coming closer and closer to him.

"He's there, Lightpaw. See the nest?"

"Ohhhh. There you are Pig."

"What are you doing in here?"

It was them. Lightpaw, the leaderly one who was failing training, and Mousepaw who was just stupid and didn't talk much. And Sunpaw in the back. She was smart. Knew things, good at hunting and knew all the medicine cat herbs even though she wasn't in training for it. Had her future planned out.

"Pig, why do you think you're allowed to be in here?" Lightpaw asked him loudly.

"Answer me when I talk to you."

"Yeah, answer when she talks," Mousepaw laughed raucously.

"I had a fever," He mewed in his high, she-cat's voice.

"That's too bad." Lightpaw glanced back at Mousepaw. "Get him up."

Mousepaw leaped forward, swiping the blanket of moss and grass off of him and jerked him to his feet. For a moment his head snapped back, jolting against his neck.

"Well, Pig, there is something we need to go over with you," Sunpaw said, stepping up and glancing him up and down. "Mousepaw, give me the bones."

Mousepaw pranced forward, holding some mice and squirrel bones in her teeth.

"Okay, we set these out for us to eat later," Sunpaw said, motioning for Mousepaw to drop the bones. Lightpaw came behind him and shoved his shoulders and head to the ground and Mousepaw sat on him, holding him in place. He struggled to look up at Sunpaw, knowing it would be bad if he didn't maintain eye contact.

"That was earlier this evening. We left a little stack away from the fresh-kill pile. And we saw you eating them at dinnertime. How was it not clear that you weren't supposed to ear them?"

"It was for us, Pig," Lightpaw said, looking down at him, sneering.

"Push his head in," Lightpaw commanded.

Mouspaw stamped on his head, forcing it against the stone ground. He gritted his teeth as tears of pain leaked out of his eyes.

"If we ever see you do that again we'll have to beat you up," Sunpaw said calmly, crouching in front of him. "So don't. Let's go."

The three of them turned and started to leave. Faithpaw struggled back onto his feet. As Mousepaw passed she shoved him hard, sending him into the air before he slammed onto his stomach and chin, paws trapped beneath him. They left, laughing. He didn't even bother to try and get back up this time, just lay there letting the pain wash over his body, replacing his fever. The pain of their strength against his weakness.

His pure weakness.

–

When he awoke the next morning Greenspots told him his fever was gone and to get off to training. He licked his fur clean and headed over to the fresh-kill pile, but didn't bother to take anything in case Lightpaw and her friends had claimed it all.

He headed off into the forest, knowing his mentor wouldn't bother to wait for him in the camp. She'd already be in the forest, chatting with the other mentors and watching their apprentices tousle and hunt. Then he'd arrive and they'd pick on him and his bad crouch and feeble attack as Lightpaw battled against him with cold skill, using claws but hiding it from her mentor.

I don't want to go, Faithpaw thought. I don't want to go to training.

The walk through the forest was long and silent. His paws twitched with fear. Why did he have to do this everyday? Everyday, this was what it felt like. The fear, the dread. So scared. So very scared. Lightpaw was there. Mousepaw would be there. So would Sunpaw, probably.

Please, StarClan, if you're out there, spare me from training. Just for today. He still felt sick and yesterday's abuse was costing him now. He clenched his teeth, narrowed his eyes.

I...I can do this, he thought. He tried to imagine himself as if he was walking toward them holding an incredible power. If they hurt him, bam, he would lash out and they all were gone. Vanished. Dispersed to the wind.

The training hollow was getting close now. He wanted to slow his pace, to turn around. He could hear them talking, their laughter pealing into the morning.

Why aren't I allowed? Why aren't I allowed to be part of them?

He entered through the trees into the clearing, ears burning when they all stopped and turned to look at him.

"Why are you so late?" Windstorm, his mentor, asked coldly. "We've been training for nearly an hour."

"I was sick."

"You're always sick. Stop using that excuse."

"Hi, Pig," Lightpaw murmured from across the clearing, sitting beside Sunpaw.

"Why don't you warm up with a wrestle with Sunpaw?" Asked Sunpaw's mentor, Spottedflight, brightly. She was blind to the world. She didn't understand anything.

"I'm up for it," Sunpaw said to her nonchalantly, than shot Faithpaw a smirking glare.

StarClan, please....if you can do...something...

Sunpaw came closer, slinking across the dirt. Faithpaw wanted to back up. She was sneering. Grinning with sharp teeth. He wanted to turn and run. Flee through the forest and not look back.

Sunpaw suddenly leaped to the side, and then leaped over to the left of him. He turned, trying to prepare, but a second later she'd soared over his head and landed with a splash of sand on his other side. Before he could spin around she'd leaped onto his back, claws digging into his white fur. He was pressed onto the ground beneath her. She slammed a paw onto his muzzle, holding it in the sand. He struggled instantly, already beginning to suffocate. She held him there and he thrashed harder, desperate, trying to get air. He was already dizzy. Already getting spots of light.

Once again he thought he was going to die. Under the paws of his Clanmates.

And then Sunpaw hopped off and licked at her paws proudly. Praise was splashed upon her by Spottedflight and Windstorm. They had no idea what had come so close to happening.

Lightpaw walked past him, laughing with Mouspaw. "You fail, Pig." Mousepaw poked him in the shoulder and he stumbled to stay on his feet. Then she kicked him onto the dirt again and walked on.

"Faithpaw," Windstorm said, turning to him with her eyes narrowed and her face masked with disappointment. "If you're not going to learn this stuff, you can't be a warrior."

"I know," he mumbled. His mouth was full of dirt.

"Then start shaping up. I'm tired of putting wasted time into you." Windstorm sad up. "Let's go, everyone. Faithpaw, you stay and hunt."

Windstorm started off briskly, followed by Spottedflight and Sunpaw. Lightpaw and Mousepaw followed last.

Faithpaw just sat in the clearing, staring at the indents in the sand from many scuffles through time. Hunched over. Head down. He felt dark and cold, sitting like this.

Tears. There were tears in his eyes. Pooling at his lower eyelashes. He blinked them away but they just smeared. He wanted them to dry up.

Dark. Cold.

If only he was special. If only he was _special_. He imagined sitting like this as Mousepaw and Lightpaw and Sunpaw came toward him, laughing, sneering. What if he didn't even have to look at them and they died? What if he had a power that blew them apart. He imagined how it would feel, the rush of satisfied pleasure that would claim his body as he stood and saw the parts of their bodies strewn around him. The guts spilled out onto the sand. The blood splashing the trees. Paws lying separate from legs. Disembodied heads lying at his feet, eyes staring, mouth's cracked open forever in pain and shock.

I wish. He thought, squeezing his eyes shut with pain. The tears dripped down his cheeks. I just wish.

He sat up, keeping his head down. He liked being dark and cold like this. Hiding his face from the world. Staring down at his white paws. If only he could splash the flawless, pale fur with the blood of his enemies.

I can only wish. I am nothing. I am weak. I can't even protect myself against some she-cats.

They always said toms were supposed to be stronger.

Should they have superiority then too? He sure thought so. He was the only one. He was special, wasn't he? In that way, he was special. So why didn't they treat him like it?

I'm so weak.

I am _worthless._

He stood and walked out of the clearing. He was supposed to be hunting, so he knew he would have to stay out in the forest late to catch an acceptable amount. Otherwise he'd be punished by Windstorm. He wasn't very good at it, but hunting was something he could do. It was slow work for him and he missed a lot, but he was able to do it.

But now, he wasn't going to hunt.

He headed on through the forest, out to where the lake was. The forest was bright and warm, dew glimmering on leaves. Shafts of yellow light came down through the trees, making the forest floor mottled with shadow. He moved slowly, head down, staring only a few feet ahead of him.

He reached the edge of the trees and padded silently down the warm sandy bank until he reached the water. He sat hunched down, looking into the clear, shining surface. Flawless. Perfect. Clear.

He saw his face, his small white face. His crooked whiskers. The round, gray eyes. Soft grey eyes, lacking any toughness or hardness.

So weak.

So worthless.

A sob built up inside him and he fought hard to keep it down. It came out instead with just a trickle of tears that dripped off his chin.

"Why?" he rasped, "Why do I have to go through this?"

He stood up, looking harder at his little reflection. The sadness was suddenly partnered with anger. "Why do I have to be different?" a snarl crept into his voice and he raised a paw. He glared. Tried to look big. Strong. Dangerous. All he was was a scared, tiny, weak apprentice.

So _weak_.

"Fuck you," he hissed through his teeth and slammed his paw into his reflection. The ripples immediately chopped it up, obscuring it. He drew back, sat down again. Anguish was constricting his chest. "....why?" He rasped to himself, throat closing.

He heard something behind him and turned haltingly around. There was a cat standing there. A cat he didn't know.

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Three

**K, just want to say one little thing. This story is a remake, not a rewrite. It's not going to be just the same plot written better. I'm changing a lot of the plot. Not all of it, but several aspects, especially in Faithpaw's early years. As the story goes on, as soon as he gets a little older it will probably begin to sound a bit more familiar.**

**Also, I posted the allegiances. Sorry they're a little late.**

**ThunderClan**

Leader- Midnightstar- black she-cat

Deputy- Petalstripe – pale gray and white she-cat

Medicine Cat- Greenspots- mottled dark gray tabby she-cat

Warriors- Amberwind- Bright orange tabby she-cat

Windstorm- Pale yellow she-cat

Spottedflight- tortoiseshell she-cat

Fallenleaf- Dark gray tabby she-cat

Weedtail- Grayish yellow she-cat

Hawkfeather- Mottled gray and brown she-cat

Apprentices- Lightpaw- pale yellow-brown she-cat

Mousepaw- solid gray she-cat, white chest and paws

Sunpaw- Bright orange tabby she-cat

Faithpaw- solid white tom

Swiftpaw- White and gray blotched she-cat

Elders- Scratchstorm- ancient gray she-cat

**ShadowClan**

Leader- Sorrelstar- dark calico she-cat

Deputy- Leaf-foot- pale brown tabby she-cat

Medicine Cat- Brookwhisker- pale silver tabby she-cat

Warriors- Birchfur- Tan she-cat

Wingflower- white she-cat

Littlefoot- small gray tabby she-cat

Dawnheart- dark ginger she-cat

Tigercloud- orange and black spotted she-cat

Apprentices- Siftpaw- black she-cat

Snowpaw- white and pale gray she-cat

Creampaw- pale she-cat

**WindClan**

Leader- Sparrowstar- pale gray tabby she-cat

Deputy- Thistletail- Dark brown she-cat

Medicine Cat- Honeycloud- ginger and brown tabby she-cat

Warriors- Lightfeather- silver she-cat

Shimmerpool- Silver and white she-cat

Shadowclaw- black she-cat

Hawktail- dark tabby she-cat

Apprentices- Echopaw- black and silver she-cat

Rainpaw- greyish blue tabby she-cat

**RiverClan**

Leader- Sunstar- bright ginger she-cat

Deputy- Palefeather- pale tan she-cat

Medicine Cat- Riverstorm- silver gray she-cat

Warriors- Swallowflight- pale brown tabby she-cat

Rockpelt- dark gray tabby she-cat

Ripplefur- silver gray tabby she-cat

Brightwhisker- silver and ginger she-cat

Apprentices- Leafpaw- dark tabby she-cat.

THREE

The she-cat stood on a rock at the top of the strip of beach, looking down at him. She kept her paws right up next to each other and leaned a little to the left. She stared at him casually, with slight interest.

Faithpaw said nothing, just glared. She just watched him. He raised his tail and lowered his head in a challenge. She was an intruder, right? That's what he'd been taught!...right?

"What are you doing here?" he called, lowered his eyebrows.

"I come here a lot," she said without concern.

"On ThunderClan territory?" He growled. How was he supposed to handle this? He didn't want to handle this. He didn't to deal with anything of the sort right now. Or any time.

"Yeah," she said casually, "Nobody sees me."

"I see you," He said stoutly, sitting down.

She leaped easily off the rock and landed firmly on her paws. He wouldn't have been able to do that. She paused, tilted her head to one side. "Are you going to chase me off?" she probed.

He flattened his ears, agitated by the direct question. He didn't want to chase her off. But he knew he should. He knew if he did and he got seen doing it he might get rewarded. A pat on the head from his mentor. A nod of approval from Midnightstar. A word of kindness. Even that would be enough.

"Get off," he said, showing his pitiful white fangs. He glared harder. "You can't be here."

He took a step closer, trying to look menacing, "I was here first."

The she-cat surveyed him casually. She was very skinny and fragile looking. A dark brown coat, almost black. Huge dark eyes that stood out in her little face. Her fur was very well groomed and neat.

Her eyes seemed to test him. Was he going to come closer? Would he really try to chase her off?

"Why do you come down here?" he growled.

"I look at the water."

"Can't you do that in your own territory?"

"No."

Faithpaw turned away, eyes darkening. He wished she would leave.

"I'll go, if you want," she said from behind him.

He turned around slowly. Squinted up at her. "Maybe you should do that."

She turned and padded along the beach until the place where ShadowClan territory began, and then she swerved up into the trees. He watched her until she disappeared.

He didn't want to be down here by the water anymore. Felt too exposed. So he turned around and padded back up into the trees. He immediately got to hunting, working hard into the evening. Busying himself felt good, the feeling of hunting down and killing his prey was refreshing. He liked doing work. Being left alone to hunt...this was probably the best thing that had happened to him all day.

He thought about the she-cat. She unnerved him. Made him feel...weak.

Just like every other she-cat.

It's how they are, he thought with anger, driving his claws into the soft ground.

He wondered what her name was.

–

A Gathering. That was purely good news to Faithpaw. It meant that almost all of the Clan, including Lightpaw, Mousepaw and Sunpaw would go off all night and he would be left alone, left alone for a whole night to be able to eat without worrying, to be able to get a good healthy bit of rest, and wander around the forest without the dread that either someone would come across him and knock him down or that he'd get called back to camp.

So when Midnightstar stood atop the highrock to announce who was attending, he felt a bubble of happiness grow in his chest when he learned all apprentices but him were leaving for the night.

For the rest of the day he drifted through training, dreaming about the amazing night he would have in peace. He would probably first pig out on voles in the empty apprentice's den. He loved voles. But Lightpaw and her friends always got there first and either claimed them or devoured them. But now he would be able to eat them without having Lightpaw's gang come and steal them from under his paws.

And then he'd sleep. Sleep on his back with his paws up, which always felt to vulnerable to him when others were in the den. And he'd be able to stretch out. Oh StarClan, he couldn't wait.

In training he was tackled by Mousepaw, who spit in his face and laughed. The mentors either didn't see or just refused to do anything about it. When they were leaving to head back to camp, Lightpaw rounded on him, flanked by Sunpaw and Mousepaw.

He started at a point on one of her front legs, terrified to meet her eyes. He was so scared. His body was sweating, smoking with the fear that radiated from him. He knew they could practically taste it.

"Clean up the mess, Pig," Lightpaw said to him.

"What mess?" he asked quietly.

"You left a mess after the scuffle," Sunpaw said, "Don't you see the dirt everywhere? And the clumps of moss on the trees?"  
He didn't want to look around. He didn't want to look around. He didn't want to look-

Mousepaw slammed his head down into the ground and held it there, pushing hard. He licked and spat at the dirt clouding his mouth and nose. "Do you see it now?" Lightpaw spat.

"Yes," he rasped.

"Stay and clean it up," Sunpaw told him, "Or do you just want to leave it for others to clean up later?"

"Would you really be that disrespectful?" Lightpaw asked darkly.

He was burning- burning with shame at making the mess. And burning with anger, anger at all three of them. At their cruel, manipulative words. They had made the mess too. But he got blamed for it.

"I don't want to," he rasped.

"What?" Lightpaw spit.

"I don't want to," He said quieter.

"You don't want to clean up the mess?" Mousepaw asked slowly.

"No. I don't want to clean it up."

"What did you say?" Sunpaw asked, leaning in closer, "Did I hear wrong? I must have. Let's go, Lightpaw."

"Yeah. You clean up the mess."

He couldn't say anything more. They'd taken the brief moment of strength, the brief attempt at power he'd held for less than a second in his paw. He was crushed out, dead. Ashes of a fire.

He wasn't going to clean up the mess. The training hollow was messy – it always was. But he didn't just have to scrape the dirt off the trees. He knew the only way Lightpaw and Sunpaw would be satisfied was if he cleaned it to a shine, to where it was sparkling. That would take hours. All night. Maybe into morning. It was impossible, and they knew that.

What was he supposed to do? He had everything planned for himself tonight. He had his precious pleasure night all ready. He was looking forward to it. His day, like all the others, had turned shitty, and now he deserved a night to himself.

He couldn't clean up the mess. He wasn't going to waste this night doing that. Lightpaw and Sunpaw could just deal with it.

His legs shook at the thought. Shook as he walked away from the clearing, turned around and just left it as it was. His heart hammered in fear.

He couldn't go back to camp yet. They'd find him in there and drag him out here, slam his head into the ground. And then watch as he cleaned up the mess. Not let him eat until it was sparkling.

Maybe if he stayed in the forest until they left for the Gathering and then came back to camp, they'd have forgotten when they came back. He'd knock the chunks of dirt off the trees so it wasn't so blatantly obvious he'd done nothing. Maybe he'd be able to let this one just slide right by.

He could wait. He was good at waiting. If anything, Faithpaw had patience. He went about and straightened up the training hollow, knocked the dirt off the trees and pushed the mossy clumps out of the sand. And then he went and hunted, looking specifically for voles he could eat tonight. He caught a fair few, two or three, and then waited even longer just to be safe. When the moon was high in the sky he finally headed back for the camp. He knew only a few warriors would be in there now, to guard. Boring warriors who left him alone. The best kind.

He trotted into camp, taking the way behind the nursery as an extra precaution, just in case the Gathering group had been delayed. But the camp was empty and dark when he arrived. He let the tension wind out of his muscles, taking in a deep breath. Oh, how it felt to know you were safe and alone. The relief, the security he felt was so powerful it almost brought tears to his eyes. He flopped down in the apprentice's den, lying on his back as he made his way through three or four voles. God, they were good. The warm, fresh meat, softer than mice and not as stringy as squirrel.

When he finished his stomach was extended and he just lay on his back, letting it start to digest. He didn't want to go to sleep now, didn't want to waste the sweet hours he had alone in camp.

Just lying here felt weird with all the food in his stomach, and his legs craved a little exercise. So he slowly got to his feet and padded out of camp. He wasn't sure where to go at first, just wanted to get his system moving. He was probably going to have indigestion and diarrhea later, but that was no big deal as long as Lightpaw and Sunpaw and Mousepaw didn't find his dung and fling it at him.

He realized his paws were carrying him down towards the lake. He let them lead and before long, he emerged through the trees and out on the short strip of beach. He padded down the water and stopped, looking out at the silver-black ripples. It was so dark out. The moon was high. Beautiful. Sort of. Kind of creepy, too.

Trying not to be noticeable, he made an inconspicuous 360 with his head, scanning the strip of beach as far as he could see.

No she-cat.

He got up, headed into the forest. Walked about, sniffing after fireflies and lighting bugs. Turned around, headed back down to the beach. Scanned it.

No she-cat.

He went back into the forest and hunted a little, but didn't catch anything. He began to wonder what if felt like to have friends, or just to have cats like you in general.

What would it be like to have someone there for him? Someone he could talk to? Someone to hunt and train with?

He'd probably be out with them right now.

He began to fantasize a little about having friends, about suddenly there being a bunch of new kits born into the Clan and all of them wanted to be his friend. He would go about with the three strong she-cats constantly at his side.

He'd never seen kits before. He was the youngest cat in all the Clans, that's what his mother said. He just imagined kits like normal cats, scaled down. Cuter, maybe.

What did other toms look like?

What would he look like when he started getting bigger? He couldn't really imagine it.

What if he had a father? Someone, an older tom, that he looked up to and could confide in.

Well, he didn't.

He headed back down to the beach, not even sure why. He padded halfway down the sand strip and stopped. Looked left, looked right.

The she-cat was back. She was standing at the edge of the forest, closer to ShadowClan territory, watching him.

He tried to act like she was nothing more than a squirrel watching him. Or less than even that. He padded down to the water and sat where he had sat yesterday.

From the corner of his eye he saw the she-cat padding closer. Stop. Pad closer. Finally she stopped a yard or so away and just stood there, paws close together.

He turned his head and glared at her. "You again?"

She said nothing, just looking at him through her big brown eyes. Looking so...fragile.

"Why aren't you at the Gathering?" He asked. Some of the growl had left his voice.

"I didn't go."

"Were you even allowed to go?" He snorted meanly.

"Yeah."

There was a long pause, and Faithpaw stared out at the water. Suddenly, the she-cat spoke.

"You smell like vole."

"Yeah, I ate voles before I came out here."

She said nothing.

"You weren't invited to the Gathering, were you?" she asked. She had come closer, sat beside him. A tail length lay apart. He felt tense and awkward beside her.

"No," he said, "But I have been before."  
She looked into his eyes, her huge brown ones reflecting everything. She looked....sad, very sad. Why? Why was she sad?

Who was she?  
"You don't have to lie, you know," she said, turning her head to stare at the water. "I won't use it against you."

He felt his insides turn into ice- cold, hard ice. How could she know he'd never been allowed to a Gathering before?

"Look, do you want..." He started, and then stopped. She looked at him, waiting. He wasn't sure what he had been going to say. He wanted to offer her something, but he didn't know what. "...do you want some food or something?" It was the first thing that came to his mind. Partly because she seemed so small and thin.

"No," she said, and then added, "No thanks."

"Oh," he murmured, lowering his gaze a bit. After a pause, he stammered, "we...we could go...chase fireflies or something...in the forest?"  
She turned toward him. Her face broke into a smile. He was surprised.

"You really do stuff like that?"

"Why not?" he said, suddenly defensive.

"No, it's not bad, it's just..." she didn't go on.

There was silence for a while. The she-cat sat staring out at the lake, at the little island so far away where most of their Clanmates were right now. He snuck looks at her. Her fur was groomed and combed just right like yesterday. Very neat. Very clean.

What if she was weaker than him? For a moment, the thought thrilled him. Someone even more worthless than he. And then he crushed it out of his mind. Something about her, the way she just...was, in general, wasn't weak.

"Um..." he said, his voice small and nervous in the misty darkness, "....what's your name?"

"Siftpaw," she replied instantly, glancing over at him.

"Oh. Oh. I'm Faithpaw."

"Hi...Faithpaw."

"....hey."

Faithpaw said nothing for a moment, staring at the water but not seeing it this time. He felt like his entire skin, all his fur, was just blazing, flaming and flapping at his body.

"...I have to get back..." Siftpaw murmured.

"Oh! Oh, right. Okay. Um...see you tomorrow?" He looked sideways at her nervously.

"Maybe," she responded vaguely.

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

**The new Siftpaw. I like her better. **


	4. Four

**Hello again everyone. I don't have much to say today except that Lightpaw, Sunpaw, Mouspaw, Faithpaw and any of the other apprentices, including Siftpaw, are like 'pre-pubescent' so they're almost still like kids. They'd be like eleven or twelve in human years. That's why they're not demanding to mate with Faithpaw yet. That was always something that bugged me with the original, the way that all the super young cats were going around wanting to mate. How unrealistic is that?**

FOUR

As he walked back to camp, Faithpaw felt different. He'd possibly had the best night of his life. He wished that Lightpaw's gang would be gone forever. He would be so happy then. So happy. Or if they'd been born into another Clan, and three she-cats from another Clan had been born into his. Like Siftpaw.

He didn't know any others.

Maybe someday he'd get invited to a Gathering. But would he even want to go? He liked his solitude in camp when he was left. Sure, he wanted to see the other Clans, but would he give up his safety and relaxation for that?

He was brought back to his senses when he heard the bushes around him rustle. He slowed to a stop, pricked his ears. Listened.

"Is someone there?" He called softly, heart pounding in nervousness.

"Yep," said a voice to his right. He spun around and saw Lightpaw emerge from the trees. Sunpaw and Mousepaw prowled out behind her.

His heart leaped into his throat and he crouched a bit, ears flattening.

"What are you doing out here, Pig?" Mousepaw asked loudly.

"I was out." He said carefully.

"Out doing what?" Lightpaw demanded.

"Hunting and stuff."

"You were talking to someone," Sunpaw said, "You were talking to someone, weren't you? Down by the beach."

He didn't answer. He wasn't going to lie to them, he was too scared of the consequences. But he wouldn't directly agree that yes, he had talked to someone down at the beach.

"Who were you talking to?" Sunpaw went on. Lightpaw and Mousepaw had stepped back and seemed to be fiddling with something in the bushes behind the ginger she-cat.

Faithpaw's heart pounded in fear.

"Tell us," Sunpaw demanded, stepping forward, "What was her name?"

StarClan, please help me! He begged in his head, stumbling backward. His mouth opened and a few wheezes escaped his throat. He couldn't speak. He couldn't find the words or his voice to speak.

Lightpaw stepped forward. She was carrying a long, thin branch in her jaws. Mousepaw had one too. "Sunpaw," she said, "The real question is why wasn't he out cleaning the training hollow?"  
Faithpaw's heart stopped.

"Yeah," Sunpaw said, "We came back and when we saw you weren't in camp we of course assumed you were still cleaning the training hollow like the good boy you are. But, Pig...it wasn't cleaned at all. We told you to clean it."

"Why were you out here _not cleaning it_?" Lightpaw asked darkly, shaking her head.

"I-I-I-I I did clean, um, I did um, um clean it! It was cleaned, I cleaned it! I cleaned it, I did clean-"

"Shut up," Lightpaw hissed, showing her white fangs. The long twig lay at her feet. "You didn't do anything."

"We told you to clean it," Sunpaw said.

"Why didn't you clean it?" Lightpaw demanded.

Faithpaw was dead. He stared into Sunpaw's face and hated her smug expression, hated her soft ginger fur, the too-intelligent mind secured in her skull. Hated every part of her. He wanted to smash something, anything, into her horrible face.

"Hit him," Sunpaw said to Mousepaw. "He needs a beating."

Faithpaw tried to stumble backward. Mousepaw slammed her stick down across him. It slashed across his thighs and burned like a whip. There was no blood, no scar, just the searing pain. She slashed him with it again, and again. The pain climbed. Climbed. He started to cry. Tears of pain and anger and hatred. Hatred at Sunpaw's smug face in the background, Lightpaw's grim expression. At stupid, stupid Mousepaw, hitting him over and over. At himself for having to take this. He'd waited until they left for the Gathering. He'd even cleaned some of the clearing. So why did he have to have this done to him?

Hatred at not being able to smash Sunpaw's face.

The tears wept faster out of his eyes and he lay on the ground, sobbing as the hits continued. Finally Mousepaw stopped and stepped back. He could feel them standing above him, staring darkly down at him. He cried and cried. Tried to stop. Couldn't.

"Pig's upset," Lightpaw muttered.

"Sit up, you shit," Sunpaw snapped at him.

He didn't want to sit up. He wanted to grab one of the sticks and jab it into her eyes.

"No? You won't sit up?" Sunpaw growled. She wrenched the stick out of Mousepaw's grasp. "Give me that."

She stepped closer, looking down at him. He was too scared to meet her eyes. Tears rolled down his cheeks. Sunpaw raised the stick and slashed it down through his face. He felt it cut over his eye and down his cheek. He felt the pain, a bright, sunlight sort of pain, worse than his thighs. A pain that made everything white. Where he couldn't hear anything.

He was numb. He was cold. He heard them leave. Heard their sticks drop to the ground as they sped off. He just stood there, eyes half closed, dried tears sticking to his face.

Finally the whiteness died down. His hearing came back to fullness. His senses returned. He still just stood there a while longer, listening to the forest, trying to stay...trying not to be...he had no idea. He had absolutely no idea.

He slowly got to his feet and started to walk. He touched a paw to his eye and felt blood. A scratch. How deep? How bad? They'd never done anything this bad before. What would he do now? How would he explain it to the other cats? Would he even have to? They probably wouldn't care.

He kept walking until he reached the beach. He stumbled down to the lake. Stopped at the edge of the water. Hunched over so he could see his reflection.

There he was, staring back at him. The water was cool and clear and smooth. He could see his small, all-white body, his little face. His scrawny muscles.

His face hurt so bad.

It was a thin red scratch, clear against his white fur. A mark.

He dipped his head down and used his paw to the scratch over with water. It dripped off his paw, tinted pink. The scratch wasn't deep. It was thin and long. It wouldn't take long to heal. But it still hurt so bad.

And his thighs. He could just see some bruising through the fur. It was like a sharp, ringing ache.

It really, really hurt.

He started to cry again. Quiet sobs. Quiet, wracking sobs. He washed his face again, washed all of it, trying to wash away the tears. He couldn't. They kept squeezing from his eyes and journeying down his cheeks. He soaked his legs in the cold water. Finally he got out and stared at his reflection.

He seemed smaller, weaker than ever. Even more worthless. That cat, that small, scrawny white cat in the water was him. That was his face. His weak body.

He turned around and padded back to the camp, face burning, legs burning. But he was calm inside. He didn't cry anymore. He held the pain inside him and refused to let it leech out. He would do that from now on. No pain. No anger. Maybe they wouldn't hit him then.

He reached the camp and slowly padded in. The scratch on his face burned. He ignored it. He headed toward the apprentice's den and slipped inside. He was tired now but he had stayed up nearly all night and dawn was probably less than an hour away. He would not get enough sleep tonight.

The next morning he was awakened by the sound of the other apprentices' mentors waking them up for training. He knew Windstorm wouldn't bother to wake him up and if he didn't wake up now he'd get chewed out by her later. So he forced his eyes open and forced himself to sit up. He was exhausted, he could feel the sleeplessness pulling him downward, back toward the nest. He fought it off and stepped into the early morning light.

He didn't bother eating. Lightpaw and Sunpaw and Mousepaw were sitting by the fresh-kill pile and he didn't dare approach it. He'd gotten enough to eat last night, anyway.

They started off for training. Faithpaw struggled to keep up. The abuse on his legs the night before was paying off this morning. They ached and burned all the way to the training hollow.

When they reached it Faithpaw was dreading the training fights he'd have to endure in his sickly state but he was surprised and happy when Windstorm said they'd be doing a hunting competition today.

"You all will get a different part of the forest to hunt in," Spottedflight instructed, "And you will hunt as much as you can as fast as you can and bring it back when you hear Windstorm's call. Is that clear?"

Everybody nodded that they understood.

Faithpaw was told to go down by the WindClan border, close to the lake. He didn't hunt there much but he knew there would be a lot of squirrels and stuff in there. So he nodded and feeling bright started off in that direction.

He scrounged along the border, sniffing out prey. Within moments he had already caught two mice. Pickings were rich down here, he decided with a smile. He ought to hunt here more often.

It wasn't long before he'd caught an abundance of squirrels, mice, shrews and a couple of rabbits that had leaped over the border for a drink. He liked hunting. He was good at it. He might be awful at fighting, but he was good at hunting.

As he started to round up his prey in one pile to take back to the camp, he fantasized a little about some day being able to help his Clan by hunting. He'd go out on a solo patrol and return in less than an hour overflowing with his catches. The praise would rain down upon him. Even Midnightstar would come out of her den in the Highledge to give him a word of honor. She'd hold a meeting in leaf-bare just to announce to the Clan how his hunting skills had saved them from starvation in the cold. He'd dip his head, embarrassed but proud, as the Clan pushed around him. His mother would come and whisper in his ear, nuzzle against him. The warrior Amberleaf who he sort of thought was cute but never spoke to, hardly ever saw would lick his cheek, purr in admiration.

He was carrying the heavy load of prey swiftly back to the training hollow, getting more and more lost in his fantasy, when he was stopped by two cats that leaped out in front of his path. He skidded to a halt.

Lightpaw. Sunpaw. Mousepaw.

"Pig's proud of himself," Mousepaw said.

They each had prey with them. A well sized pile, but his was larger. If he wasn't so scared he would have been proud.

"Yes he is," Lightpaw said. She looked him in the eyes, addressed him. "So you caught all that, huh? That's a bit much for a pig, don't you think?"

"....what do you...."

"Shh," Sunpaw said, coming forward with a smirk. She lay her tail across his nose. "We didn't say you could talk." she dropped the smirk, nodded to Mousepaw. "Take it all."

Mousepaw came forward as Sunpaw stepped back. She reached up, and slashed her claws through the hefty amount of prey held in his jaws. He watched as it was torn from his grasp and landed strewn on the ground, oozing blood. Bits of skin and flesh clung to his mouth.

Without speaking, both Lightpaw and Sunpaw leaped upon the kills, scooping them up to their own piles. Mousepaw grabbed a couple of squirrels and picked it all up in her jaws. She turned around and started off, followed by Lightpaw. Sunpaw looked back at Faithpaw just once, meeting his eyes and laughing inside her throat. Then she too turned around and followed the other two into the bushes. Not a single piece of prey was left.

"That's mine!" Faithpaw started, heart pounding, "You cant take it!"

"...wait!" He began to start after them, running as hard as he could. And then he stopped. Skidded to a halt. What use would chasing them do? They'd taken his prey. They weren't going to just give it back.

"Ugh," he said to himself. He could hear Windstorm yowling, he had to be back soon. He sat down heavily, looking at the ground in front of his eyes. He started to cry again. Cry in earnest. At what they did to him, what they'd done. At the brutal slaughter of his fantasy. At the fact that those fantasies- they would never become anything else. All his dreams, all his hopes, his wishes...they would always stay just that. He thought of the recognition, the praise they would get when they returned with their kills plus his. And he? He would return with nothing. He would be talked down, ridiculed. Disrespected. Probably not be allowed to eat tonight.

He stopped the tears. No sense for them. Dejectedly, empty-pawed, he slowly continued on to the training hollow.

"FAITHPAW! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!" Shouted Windstorm from the training hollow.

He quickened his pace a bit. Maybe he could catch some things on the way. He moved fast, nose to the ground. He managed to catch a small shrew before he reached the hollow. He tumbled in and skidded to a halt, looking into the eyes of the three apprentices and their mentors.

"Is that all?" Windstorm asked, "You have more in the forest, right?"

He wished he could tell her. Expose what the other apprentices had done to him. She wouldn't believe him. She believed he was worthless and not good at anything, so there was no point in even trying.

"Yeah," he muttered, dropping the shrew at his feet.

Sunpaw said smirking. Lightpaw was sneering. They had big piles of prey beside them. As he watched, Spottedflight gave each of them a blistering smile and she licked Sunpaw on the ear.

Faithpaw burned with resentment. He lowered his head. He heard them leave. He was alone. They hadn't chewed him out. They probably thought he was too low even for that.

"Faithpaw," came an angry growl above him. He looked up. Windstorm was there. He'd thought she'd left, but she hadn't. She sat, head raised, tail around her paws.

"Faithpaw, I am moments away from disowning you as an apprentice. You are disgraceful. You are disgusting. You are dim-witted and can't think like a normal cat. You are unattractive and your body is hideous. You can't hold a claw against another cat in a fight. And you cannot hunt to save a life. There is nothing you can do. You are thin and weak. You are worthless."

The words stabbed him. They sunk into his chest and pierced into his heart like a long thin claw. _You are worthless._

"There is no point of you being in this Clan. There is nothing you can do to help other cats. You can hardly help yourself."

She leaned down, showing a hint of her fangs. "That is what I think. That is what everyone thinks. It is common knowledge and it should be what _you _think."

_It is,_ he thought, feeling like his heart was dissolving. He could hardly feel his body. There was a ringing in his ears, blocking out the sounds of the forest.

"There is only one reason we allow you in this Clan, allow you to drink our water and eat our prey. Sleep in our beds. Do you know why that is?"

He didn't. He had no idea. He was stupid. A dumbass.

"Because you're a male," she spit, "and the only male or miles and miles. We can't just send you away. We need your reproductive abilities."

"Wh-what?" He asked, looking up into her hateful yellow eyes. He hadn't heard of this. He had no idea.

"You idiot!" Windstorm hissed, jabbing her claws into his chest, "Don't you understand this? When you get older, we will need you to breed with the she-cats so the _species_ can keep on going! If you don't do that, we die out." She glared harder. "It's not like you're going to have a choice. The moment you actually start looking like a cat and not a half-starved, retarded kitten, we're launching you straight into mating. Then we can ditch the likes of you."

_Does...does this mean...that I am..._.not _worthless?_

"All you are is a worthless device," Windstorm hissed, "Something we have to use. So don't start thinking you can be a great warrior. You are a pointless, disgusting piece of crowfood. Just looking at you makes me want to throw up. Now get up. Get up and get the hell into the forest!! If you don't return with a lot of prey I'm going to start using violence to get you to shape up, asshole!"

She spun around and headed quickly out of the hollow, fur bristling. Faithpaw was left behind, all alone, fur burning at her words. His blue eyes were round and huge. He stared at the place she had been. Her words spun around his head.

You are worthless.

You are worthless.

You are worthless.

_I am worthless._

_ I am worthless._

**Sorry for such a long chapter.**


	5. Five

FIVE

He stumbled down toward the beach, tripping over vines, stumbling over roots protruding out of the ground. The forest blurred at the sides of his vision. He tried to quicken his pace but his legs trembled beneath him. He saw light, swerving back and forth in front of his vision, and a second later he broke out of the trees and stood on the beach, the soft wet sand crunching beneath his pads.

He was breathing hard. Stars spun at the edge of his vision. He was flushed and sweating. He stood there for a moment, panting, staring at the glimmering lake.

The swearing words Windstorm had spoken to him. The painful actions of the other three apprentices. They had burned his skin, scorched his heart. Sliced through his innocent, weak, untainted soul.

The sun beat down upon him. He looked up and down the beach, swinging his head back and forth. Be here, he thought desperately, please be here.

She was not here. No cat sat on the beach. He slashed his claws through the sand, leaving tracks. Anger made his heart bound in his chest. Why couldn't she be here? Why wasn't she here?  
"Argh!" he yelled to himself, struggling to put a damper on his voice. He spun around and raced back into the trees. He suddenly found himself hunting, hunting every animal he saw in sight. Time streaked by, the sun set. His heart pounded. His breath raged.

He was a horrible cat. He knew that. He was awful, just like Windstorm had said. She was right. Right about everything she had said.

He was just...hideous.

Everything about him was wrong.

He hunted until he had a pile of prey larger than before, and then he grabbed two of the mice he had caught and gulped them down, ignoring the 'Clan must be fed first' rule. And then he grabbed the remaining and moved quickly back to the camp. He dumped it onto the fresh kill pile, not caring if anybody saw, hoping they didn't, hoping he went unseen...

Because they were all looking at him, and judging him, and judging how awful a cat he was.

He fell asleep instantly in the apprentice's den. His dreams were obscured by Sunpaw and Lightpaw. They were dancing around him, nuzzling against him and teasing him gently. And then they morphed into Windstorm and licked his nose and his mouth and moved on down, licking all the way to his neck, where she paused and sunk her teeth into his throat.

It was a confused mass of terror and want and confusion. Faithpaw lay tossing and turning, mind storming. For a moment he was just flying, flying through furious red space that raged and bled. And then he saw Siftpaw, her body battered and yanked about by a wind only she could feel. He approached her and they were in the nursery and it was warm and he felt comfortable. There was nobody in the den and he wished there was because he felt awkward with Siftpaw beside him. She wrapped her self around him, holding him into her fur and he wished she would stop but didn't want her to let go. He held on too because he felt that if he did then it would stay like this forever, because even though this wasn't perfect, even though this wasn't even great, it was better than anything else. So he hung on to her, hung on hard.

She began to morph and twist and began to lick his ear, loosening her grip on him to lick over his eyes, his nose, his mouth. It aroused an uncomfortable feeling inside him he had never felt before and he moved toward her, placing a paw against her shoulders...

And then he was awakened from the dream, but he tried to hold on to it. He didn't want to be away from what had happened to him in the nursery. He didn't want to leave that. He tried to go back into the dream but it was too late now, he was awake.

He huddled himself in a ball, lying on the floor of the apprentice's den. Holding his head in his paws. He immediately remembered the words Windstorm had spoken to him and felt his body throb in pain, felt his mind ache in worry and anguish.

Felt his grip slacken on his attachment to life.

You are worthless.

The words she had spoken...the fact that they mirrored his own tortured thoughts was agony to him, was like fire. To know the way he thought of himself, the hideous cat he saw reflected in the light was the cat there really was, was the cat everyone else saw...

He wasn't going to care about life much longer. He could feel it coming on to him, like a black cloud. If they all hated him, if he was worthless, if he kept had to undergo the abuse....if he had no friends, nothing to live for....what was the point? What was the point of fighting on through the red hot pain?

He got up. Ate a couple of mice. He padded on out to the training hollow. He thought of seeing Windstorm and his heart burned.

Oh, StarClan, please....he begged in his head.

And stopped.

StarClan wasn't there for him. Of course they weren't. They wouldn't let one of the souls they watched over have to suffer through this. They were probably up there, laughing at how feeble and worthless he was.

"FUCK YOU!" He screamed to the sky. He spun around. He wasn't going to go to training. What was the point. His eyes were blinded by rage and pain and tears as he sprinted, as he tore blindly through the forest, going nowhere.

He emerged out on the beach. Staggered to a halt. His feet left deep imprints in the sand. His eyes were blinded by tears. He bent his head, wiped them away. Blinked to clear his vision. Stood, head down, breathing hard for a moment. Letting the anger and the anguish leach out of him.

That's right, calm down, he soothed himself. Since there was nobody else to do that for him, he might as well do it for himself, he decided. He closed his eyes, let the pain go. For now. Only for now.

When he had calmed down he took a deep breath and padded down to the edge of the water. Drank and drank and drank. And then sat, staring out at the lake.

He looked up and down. The beach was empty of everyone but him. Well, that was okay. Maybe she'd come later.

He thought of his dream and felt awkward. Well, she didn't have to know about it.

He waited for a long long time, almost unmoving. The sun moved across the sky and hovered above the treeline, moments from plunging beneath it.

He heard the bushes behind him rustle a little. He knew it was Siftpaw before he even scented her. He turned around, met her eyes. Smiled a little, awkwardly. "Hey there."

"Hi."

She padded down the sandy strip and silently sat down beside him.

"You weren't here yesterday," he said, turning to look at her.

"What happened?" she asked, looking at his eye. For a second he was confused, but then she added, "There. Over your eye."

He looked away from her so she couldn't' see it anymore. "Um...just the...other apprentices. It's no big deal." he paused, and then added, "In ShadowClan, do they-"

"Faithpaw," she said strictly, darkly. He stopped and looked at her.

"Yeah?"

"Hit them back."

"...what?"

"Hit them back."

"..."

"Harder than you can, hit them back." she sounded almost...dangerous. No, not in a threatening way, just very, very...serious.

"I'm scared to," he said, and his voice was so faint he bet she had to strain to hear.

"If you don't, they won't stop," she said.

He wanted to cry. He was so scared and yet at the same time he was so glad, so pitifully, giddily glad that she had understood him, that she had reached out to him when he hadn't even explained to her what was going on. He felt so small, and yet so warm, so comforted. Maybe not so worthless. "What if they..." he began, voice breaking.

"Even harder. Hit them back even harder."

He looked away from her. His heart as fluttered in his chest. He held her words close, right up into his heart.

"Here," she said, standing up, "Let's do something."

"Um...like what?"

She smiled, "I don't know yet."

"Well, okay." He turned and started to walk up to the trees at the edge of the beach, but stopped. "Who's territory?"

"Doesn't mater. Yours."

"Okay."

They went into the trees together, Faithpaw blinking to adjust to the darkness. He stopped and looked at her. "So..."

She said nothing, just blinked and glanced around.

"A mouse!" He said, suddenly scenting it. Siftpaw watched him with interest as he jumped into a crouch and went prowling through the undergrowth. He leaped quickly and pounced upon it, trapping it in his paws.

"Hey, catch!" He said, swatting the still-living body over to Siftpaw.

She immediately laughed, sounding like someone very young and innocent and went after it, holding it in her claws.

"Little mousey, little mousey," she sang. She opened her paws and it scrambled away from them. She laughed as Faithpaw ran after it and pounced. He picked it up in his mouth and flung it into the forest. They watched as it tried to disappear before together they went after it and landed on it together. Faithpaw finished it off and tossed the body into a patch of grass.

Siftpaw was still laughing. She bent over, trying to control it. It made Faithpaw laugh too. He hadn't laughed in a long time and he liked being able to laugh alongside Siftpaw. Finally she straightened up and looked over the mouse curiously. "Ha, it's still breathing!" And that caused both of them to fall over in heaps of uncontrollable mirth.

"Alright, I think it's dead now," Faithpaw said several minutes later after he had crunched hard into it's throat. He turned to Siftpaw. "Want some?"  
"Nah, you caught it," she said.

"Well, yeah, but I can get more," he said. He really wanted her to take it.

"Alright then, I guess," she meowed and bent down to bite into it.

"That was fun," she said, "I've never been able to play with my food with someone else before."

"Yeah," he said, "me neither."

There was a long silence, broken only by the sounds of Siftpaw breaking the mouse's bones with her teeth.

"Listen, in ShadowClan..." he started nervously. He didn't know how to ask it. "Is....is it better than here, in ThunderClan?"

She raised her head, licked blood off her mouth. "Hmm?"

"Like...do they..." he looked down at his paws. "Treat you well?"

"Sure."

"Oh. Okay."

She finished the mouse and looked up at him. "I have to go back."

"Already?"

"The sun's already set. It's been a while."

"Oh." He felt sadness go over his heart.

"Bye then," she said, standing up and slowly turning around. She paused for a moment before she actually started walking.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" he asked her.

For a moment she was quiet before saying, "Yeah."

"Okay. So will I. At this time. Or earlier. Any time. Really, I'll be here."

She just smiled at him, "See you tomorrow." Then she turned and continued on through the trees.

"Um, Siftpaw," he stammered out. She stopped again, looked back. He had nothing to say this time. He just smiled nervously. She smiled back and disappeared into the forest.

He stood there, staring after her. He didn't want her to go. He wanted to hang on to her. Because now he was alone again, and now all he had was the hate and the sadness of his home Clan.

But no. Things were different now. Things were definitely going to be different. Because as long as Siftpaw was around, as long as he knew he'd be able to go see her, he'd be able to keep going on through the day, keep enduring it all, keep himself from giving up.

As long as she was around.


	6. Six

SIX

When Faithpaw returned to camp he had hunted for a while and carried as much prey as he could. He dropped it onto the pile. He was just dragging some off for himself when he felt Windstorm loom up behind him.

"Why weren't you at training?"

"What?"

"I asked, why weren't you at training?"

"Um..." he realized he hadn't thought up any good cover-up story. "I don't know."

"Excuse me?"

"Um...I don't know," he didn't even want to look at her.

"Okay, well, I'm going to talk to Midnightstar about a good punishment for this. Don't feel like you got off the hook. You do not get to slack back and do what you want. Nope. Not you. And you might want to practice a bit for tomorrow so you don't fail _too_ terribly on your assessment with the other apprentices."

Assessment? Oh no. He knew Lightpaw and the others would mess it up for him, take his prey again or something. He lowered his ears, turned away. Ate his prey in silence. And then he lay down for a restless, fitful sleep.

–

Faithpaw sat on the far edge of the row of four apprentices, Lightpaw, Sunpaw, and Mousepaw. Their mentors stood in front of them, pacing back and forth as they lectured about what was happening. Faithpaw wasn't even listening, too focused on how we would avoid getting his assessment ruined by the others.

I wish they'd go away.

"Alright, guys, go!" Spottedflight shouted, "I will be watching you first, in the area near the beach. Then you will migrate over near the WindClan border and Windstorm will monitor you. Is that clear?"

There was an array of nods and mewls of agreement. Lightpaw got to her feet and shot off passed Faithpaw followed by her friends. She gave him a mean grin as she passed.

He slowly got to his feet, taking his time following them. Dread bit at his stomach. He didn't want to mess this up too. He wanted to do well, show Windstorm that he could at least hunt. But with that grin, and the way things were...

What do I do? He thought dejectedly.

Hit them back.

Even harder, hit them back.

He stopped short, pulled up. Blinked, stared. Siftpaw's words were precious, dancing around his head. Hit them back...? She was right. Of course she was right. He knew she was right.

He immediately shot off, swerving hard to the clearing they'd slashed him with those sticks that day. He moved fast, and when he reached it he was glad to find the three twigs still lying there, untouched. He picked up the longest one and wiped the dirt off it. Held it in his teeth, swung his head back and forth.

And then he raced, just raced over to the beach area where they'd be hunting together. It was supposed to be a teamwork exercise, but he could tell it was Windstorm's way of putting him through hell with the other apprentices.

He stopped when he saw them moving in a clearing ahead of him and watched. Lightpaw was calling out frantically to Spottedflight. "Spottedflight! Spottedflight oh help!"

The she-cat came bounding out of the bushes, breathing hard. "What's wrong? You're supposed to be hunting you know!"

"Didn't you hear that scream?" Sunpaw gasped, eyes huge, ears back.

"...no."

"You didn't?" Lightpaw sounded aghast, "Well all of us did! It sounded like a cat in trouble! Over by the ShadowClan border!"

"Are you sure?"

"Oh yes!" Sunpaw yowled, "It was horrible, I think someone needs help!"

"Well, I better go check it out!" Spottedflight said frantically, turned around and raced through the trees.

Lightpaw, Sunpaw and Mousepaw immediately started laughing. "She's so stupid," Sunpaw chuckled meanly. Lightpaw looked at both of them. "Alright. Let's go get him."

Him could only be Faithpaw. He instinctively drew back, seeking shelter from the bushes. He tightened his grip on the long, thin stick. Stood taller. Shook with fear.

They came closer, stopped in front of him. "Hi there," Lightpaw said.

"What do you have that stick for?" Sunpaw asked him.

"To hit you," he said, "if you try to hurt me."

Lightpaw laughed. "Are you serious? He thinks he's going to hit us. He actually thinks that."

"Um, didn't think you were _that _stupid," Sunpaw mumbled.

"Maybe we should test it," Lightpaw snickered, "See if he'd actually try it."

"I don't need to test it," Sunpaw snorted, "I know he wont just by looking at his face."

Lightpaw looked him in the eye. "I'm going to kick you into that tree. And you won't do a thing."

She stepped closer. Without a thought Faithpaw moved his head with all his might so the stick came slashing down across her ear and cheek.

Lightpaw stood there. Stared at him. Blinked. And then blood started to ooze from her ear.

Her mouth opened and she let out a loud, pitiful wail and collapsed, pawing at her face. Her pale ginger fur was getting stained with blood.

Her wails faded away because Faithpaw couldn't hear them. He blinked slowly, a fiery heat spreading through his body. He raised his head a little, eyes narrowed as if he was really sleepy. Breathed in deep through his mouth. He was numb. Numb with satisfaction and pride and giddy happiness.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! OW!!! Help! Help! OW!" She screamed, tears spraying out of her eyes. She rolled on the floor, utterly helpless. A broken toy. Sunpaw and Mousepaw stared at her, eyes huge with shock. And then they turned and left, just walked away fast through the trees.

Windstorm and some other warriors Faithpaw didn't bother to identify bursted into the clearing. They crouched beside her, checking out the injury. Staring up at Faithpaw in shock.

They carried her out of the clearing. She was still screaming and crying. He knew he hadn't hurt her that bad. If anything, Sunpaw had sliced his own eye and cheek harder that day. Nobody had rushed him off the medicine cat.

He turned and ran toward the beach. His heart was pounding, he was fired on adrenaline. He kept replaying in his mind the way Lightpaw stared at him for a moment before she broke down, completely broke down at his paws.

He stumbled out into the sand. Siftpaw was already there. He ran toward her, sending damp sand into the air. He skidded to a stop.

"Hi," he said, "Hi. Hi. Siftpaw, I-"

"Hey."

"Hey. Hi. Siftpaw I did it, I had this stick, a big stick, and when Lightpaw and them came up to push me into a tree I hit her, I hit Lightpaw across the face and she started crying."

Siftpaw stared at him for a moment, into his ecstatic face. And then she smiled. "Yay!"

"I know," he said breathily, sitting down heavily. He was breathing hard. His eyes were extra bright and reflective, full of light from the bright, sun-high sun.

"Why are you out here now?" he asked her, "Don't you have training?"

She angled her head away from him slightly. "Nah."

"Why not?"

"Just don't."

"Who doesn't have training?" he asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Me." She shrugged.

"You can't fight like a warrior?" He asked.

"No."

"Then what do you do all day?"

"Hang around camp and out here and stuff."

"Oh." He glanced down at his paws. "How come you don't? Have training?"

She glanced up at him, and he saw her eyebrows had met together in between her eyes in a glare. "I just don't, okay? Let's do something else."

"Okay, okay," he said, pulling back. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she said but still sounded flustered, "You didn't know." She stood there for a moment, thinking for what they could do. He stared unabashedly at her, at her small dark brown body, the white on her stomach and chest. This was as good as it got, he decided. Being down here with a cat who didn't want to tear apart his worthless guts...he wished he could live down here with her.

"What if we went down to the island?" She said with sudden enthusiasm, "Or by horseplace?"

"What will we do there?" He asked, jumping to his paws.

"We'll find when we get there," she said simply. He padded after her until he reached her side and they walked next to each other along the beach.

"I'm not allowed to be away," Faithpaw murmured, "I don't think apprentices are allowed in general."

"I'm just not supposed to," Siftpaw said, "I don't know if it's officially allowed or not for me."

Siftpaw was walking slowly, so Faithpaw slowed to match her pace.

"Siftpaw," he said suddenly after a long moment of silence. He paused, and then stammered for a second. "Is-is-is....are there any other toms in your Clan?"

She thought for a moment and then shook her head. "Nope."

"I didn't think so," he muttered, bowing his head.

"Um, you're the only one," she said nervously.

"Yeah, I know," he said dejectedly.

"Hmm."

"Windstorm, said, uh...that when I got just a little older I'd..." he didn't want to have to say it so openly in front of Siftpaw. "I'd have to mate a lot, she said."

Siftpaw looked at him, saying nothing. He looked away but he could feel her gaze on the side of his face. "Why not now?' she asked.

"Why not what now?"  
"Why don't they make you do that now?"

"I'm too young," he said.

"Why're you too young?"

"Uh...probably because I'm not into she-cats in _that_ way yet."

"Oh."

"Are you?" he asked her abruptly, "are you into toms in that way yet?"

She cracked a grin, "There aren't any toms to be into that way!"

"Oh yeah," he said, embaressed.

They walked in silence a bit longer. They were getting close to RiverClan territory, almost surpassing the WindClan hills.

"Siftpaw..." he muttered, looking at the ground, "Well....most cats, well, don't really like me and...um...I was wondering if....we could be....you know, friends?"

She stood walking for a while, eyes slightly lowered. Didn't say anything. He felt fear and pain grow in his stomach, stronger and stronger.

"I don't know if I can," she said, "My mom says I shouldn't really make friends."

"Why not?" he asked, aghast.

"...I don't think we should really talk about that," she said nervously.

"Oh," he muttered, "That's too bad."

After a long pause, she asked, "If we're friends can it be just like how it is now?"

"Yeah."

"Then we can. Be friends."

Faithpaw smiled.

They reached the island and Siftpaw crossed the tree-bridge first. He watched her go. She was slow crossing, slower than he could tell one needed to be. He'd never crossed it before so he took his time, but found it was easier than it looked and crossed quicker than Siftpaw had.

"What now?" He asked, when they reached the island together. And then he paused, because he had seen the beauty of the little bit of land he stood on. The trees were tall and thin, the ground covered in tiny shells and rocks glinting in the sunset. He'd been walking for quite a while, he realized. The lake, from here was even more spectacular than it was at the beach back home.

"Um," he muttered, staring out, feeling like he should say something to Siftpaw, who was just standing there. But he was suddenly overwhelmed, overwhelmed by emotion and the beauty of this place. Overwhlemed by who he was and the huge world that towered over him. He felt tears slide into the bottoms of his eyes and he blinked and lowered his gaze, trying to quietly get them to go away before Siftpaw noticed.

He blinked and blinked and wiped his eye with his paw, back to Siftpaw, when he felt her sit down behind him. She pressed one paw against his far cheek and turned his head toward her. He wanted to shy away, nervous and self-conscious. But she just stared into his eyes with her round black ones. Pressed one of his eyes shut with her paw. Blinked into the still open one.

She was so small, so fragile. He stared into her huge dark eyes. She seemed so young. A kitten growing up too early.

He leaned in toward her and twisted his neck with hers, resting his paws around her. For a moment she stumbled backward before she caught herself and let him hold on to her. It was several long seconds before she nervously pressed against him. He took a deep breath, staring past her. This...this was a big deal. Being here like this with her and being so close...it mattered. It was important.

"I have to go," she said finally. He let her stand up and stood up too.

"Will you be at the beach tomorrow?"

She thought for a moment and said, "Nah. I can't."

"Oh. Okay."

"Sorry," she added nervously.

"Bye," he said.

"Bye."


	7. Seven

**Alright guys, a little warning.**

**Tragedy: A disastrous event, especially one involving distressing loss or injury to life.**

**Angst: To feel anguished longing for another person or persons. **

**Well, I did my research on what to put as the genre for this story, and those two just about sum it up. I didn't want to put romance because angst in this case sums up the romance part of the story. Just thought I might warn you all.**

**Also, sorry this one is a little late. I usually have a few hours of down time for myself after school and I have to choose between writing and drawing. Lately I've been drawing more. But writing won't stop! **

SEVEN

They didn't come up to him again. They completely avoided him.

Lightpaw, Sunpaw and Mousepaw had stopped bothering Faithpaw. The next morning at training, only Sunpaw and Mousepaw were there. They didn't even look at him. The day after Lightpaw was back, and she payed no attention no attention to Faithpaw at all. She sported a scar on her ear and cheek.

Faithpaw waited. The entire day next day after he saw Siftpaw and most of the day after that. He checked the beach frequently, just in case she'd be there even though she'd said she wouldn't.

It was all he could think about. He numbly went through training. He had trouble paying attention to anything except how much longer he had to wait.

He'd gotten in trouble for hitting Lightpaw and had to clean the elder's den for a moon. He didn't mind in the least. Like every other cat, they ignored him as he cleaned their moss and brought them fresh food and water.

But today...today he knew Siftpaw would be at the beach. She'd said she couldn't come yesterday, but now she'd be there. He scrambled to get the elder's den done and cleaned, doing a bit of a sloppy job. And then he left and casually walked out of camp. The minute he was in the forest he started to run, flying down to the beach.

When he reached it, he skidded to a stop. Looked up and down. He was here a little later than usual. But she wasn't here.

"Oh well, I'll wait," he said to himself and sat down by the water. Time passed, the sun set. He dabbled his paws in the lake, splashing himself, playing about. Siftpaw still didn't arrive.

"Where are you?" he muttered as he paced up and down the length of the sand, almost into ShadowClan territory, and then back, almost to WindClan.

It grew later. The stars came out, one by one until the entire sky was ablaze with them.

He was hungry. He caught a couple of mice and ate them. The moon was already past moonhigh. Surely if she was coming she'd be here by now.

But she said she was coming, he thought. He replayed what she'd said last time he saw her. She couldn't be there the day after, but the one after that, she could.

And today was that day....so where was she?

Pain and sadness began to pull at his heart. Did she simply not want to come?

Did she not care about him?

He grew sadder and sadder as he waited. It was almost light. He honestly needed sleep. She wasn't coming. It was clear. Finally he just stood up and walked, head low, tail down, back to the camp.

Why hadn't she come?  
He was so scared it was because she no longer cared about him. That she was bored with him, or had better stuff to do.

He walked into the apprentice's den and sighed, plunking down and resting his head on his paws. He fell asleep quickly.

When he awoke it was late morning. He ate fast and raced to the trainng hollow. Late again. Windstorm gave him a glare when he entered. "Nice of you to join us," she growled and kept on lecturing about the rabbit crouch.

He stumbled through training in a daze. As soon as it was over he neglected his elder's den duty and instead raced to the beach. He staggered to a stop on the sand. Siftpaw wasn't there.

Oh no...he thought. He...he really had been right. She didn't want to see him.

He waited anyway. It was when the sun was just above the trees that she finally poked her way out of the bushes at the ShadowClan part of the beach and started to pad over to him.

He didn't run to meet her. Was she coming to say that she didn't want to see him ever again? She was walking slowly. Slower than normal walking. Maybe limping a little. She finally reached him and sat down heavily, breathing hard. "I'm sorry I wasn't here yesterday," she panted out.

"Why not? I waited a long time."

She just looked at him sadly. She seemed pale, her skin seemed yellow beneath her fur. Her fur itself wasn't as neat, and it seemed weaker, flatter. Less of it, maybe.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking up and down at her.

She sighed and turned her head to stare at the water.

"You should tell me," he pressed gently, "I'll tell you more about me."

She was silent for a long, long time. Finally she muttered, very softly, "Um....I have..." she stopped and started again. "There's a lot of things I can't...do."

"Why not?" he asked bluntly.

"I'm..." she rasped. Stopped. Tried again. "I'm....I'm very..."

"What is it?" he prompted.

"Faithpaw...I'm....I'm very...sick."

"....sick?"

She looked down at her paws.

"I can't do a lot of things. Because of it."

"Oh."

There was a long silence. Faithpaw didn't know what to say. Siftpaw was...sick? How could she be sick? She seemed perfectly healthy, she didn't go around coughing or anything.

"Sick?" he asked again, suddenly very unsure.

She jerked to her feet. "You said you'd tell me more about you. If I told you about me."

"Oh...okay."

She stood looking at him for a while before she asked, "Have you ever?"

"Ever what?"

She narrowed her eyebrows and leaned in closer. "Done it."

"....what?"

She smirked. "Mated."

"No."

"Would you?"

"Uh..."

"With who?"

"..."

She pulled away and smiled. "I'm just kidding! Of course I wouldn't expect anything like that of you."

He stood up and laughed nervously. "Oh." He paused and looked at the water. He looked back at her. "Let's swim!"

He bounded the remaining two yards down to the edge of the lake and splashed in, sending water flying. He paused and looked back at her. She was daintily heading down to the water's edge. She paused and dabbled at it.

"I'm not sure if I should be swimming," she said, squinting at him in the sun.

"I bet you can!" he objected in good humor, "Why wouldn't you? All you have to do is splash around anyway."

She just stood looking at him, head a little to the side, eyebrows scrunched up in concern.

"Aw, fine," he said, put out. He jumped around in the water a bit, looking up at her. She watched him the whole time. Finally he sent a big splash at her. She leaped back, trying to catch the water droplets and falling over herself. She landed on her back, a surprised expression on her face. He bounded out of the water and leaped upon her. She kicked him off and tackled him, laughing like a kit after a moss ball. It evoked laughter in him too as they rolled down toward the water together. He landed in headfirst and grabbed her tail in his jaws as he sunk down, pulling her rump into the water. Her fur went on end and her claws came out as she struggled to pull herself out as fast as possible. Her ears were back and her eyes were huge.

"Oh come on!" He laughed, throwing more water at her. She leaped after them. He intercepted her in midair and they both landed in the lake with a splash.

Faithpaw bobbed upward and looked around for Siftpaw. He saw her paddling frantically for the shore.

"Calm down!" he said, "It's not too bad."

"Yeah, but I just don't think I should..." she said as she dragged herself out again and shook her pelt.

"Fine," he said again, "Can we tousle anyway?" after a pause when she hadn't said anything, he added, "I promise I wont drag you into the water."

"Oh, okay, but you really have to pro-" He had already pounced on her and her sentence was cut off with a squeal of surprise. But it turned into laughter as they grappled together on the beach. He tried not to, but he couldn't help but notice that she was never able to pin him down. He was obviously not great at fighting, but he couldn't understand why she seemed so weak.

Maybe he was stronger than he thought. He liked that idea.

Finally they stopped and stood a few feet apart, licking their fur flat and dry. Faithpaw stopped and looked at her shyly. She was small. Her fur today was thin and flat. Other days it had been thicker. He eyed her a bit closely and tried to imagine Lightpaw, Sunpaw and Mousepaw being here right now. Tromping out of the trees and heading down the beach toward them.

They'd abuse Siftpaw, too. Suddenly, he knew. If she was in Clan they would treat her just like they treated him.

He had to make sure that never happened.

She was very small and she seemed so frail. She was skinny. He was struck by a very intense, dire need to protect her and he unconsciously moved forward and pressed again her, claws slightly out.

She looked up at him, curious. He just met her eyes and said nothing.

She glanced sideways, away. "Faithpaw..." she muttered.

After a pause he said, "Yeah?"

"If....I wasn't here anymore...would you miss me?"

"Yes."

"If I suddenly wasn't here anymore, at all?"  
"Yes."

She must have heard the surety in his voice, because she stopped questioning him.

"Why?" he asked.

She looked up at him.

"Why did you want to know?" he clarified.

She looked back at the dirt in front of them and said nothing.

"You have to promise," she said.

"Promise what?"  
"That you'd miss me."

"Of course I promise."

"..."

"It's not something I'd have to think about."

Her shoulders sagged a little.

"I mean, I would just miss you. Without a thought."

"Oh."

"Um...I'd be really sad."

He saw her smile from his view of the side of her face. Suddenly she turned her head away. He heard her sniff.

"Um...I probably should go," she said.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" he asked, like always.

"Yeah," she said, still not looking at him. She rubbed her face with a paw and then turned back to look at him. Her eyes were red. "Most definitely," she added with a big smile.

"Okay," he said. He didn't want to get up, but he did anyway. He didn't want to leave. At all.

StarClan, he wished so hard this could be how it was. That he could live on the beach with her. He wished it so hard his stomach hurt. _(author note: this makes me want to cry :( ) _If he could have that, have that be his life, then he would be the happiest cat in the forest.

So why couldn't he have it?

"Bye," he said to her, and licked her cheek. He did it on a whim, no time to prepare, but he'd been thinking about doing it for a while. His stomach clenched and his face blushed as he stepped back, and he didn't meet her eyes.

"Bye," she mewed simply, and began to head away. He watched her go. He started to go his own way but stopped and turned back to look at her. A smile grew on his mouth. A smile of amazement. And sadness. Or one or the other. He wasn't sure. He started to leave again. Turned back. For a second she glanced back. Saw him staring after her. Smiled, a big smile. He nodded once, trying to show he was just hanging around for no reason.

She went on. He stared. He knew now. He understood. He watched as she disappeared into the bushes on the ShadowClan part of the beach. And even then he kept staring, his smile growing. Yes. Yes, that was how it was.

He wanted her and nobody else. He wished everybody else would go away. But he didn't want her to leave, he didn't even have a neutral opinion. He wanted her, wanted her to stay.

What....what was the way to describe it? He had no idea. Was it love? No, wasn't that more when the two of them shared the feeling and wanted to do _things _to each other?

Whatever it was, he could feel it now. Put a paw on it and hold it there.

If she wasn't there...well, he didn't want to imagine that. When he met her, since he'd gotten to be her friend...he suddenly felt better, suddenly had a reason to stick around and try to do good in training. A reason to care.

Finally he turned around and headed back to camp. Not to fast, not to slow. His mind was plagued with Siftpaw. With him and Siftpaw. With it all.

He broke into a run as he headed back to the camp.

**Next chapter has some graphic violence. Just to warn you beforehand.**


	8. Eight

**Serious graphic violence. Really, guys. I mean it. I advise reader discretion.**

EIGHT

Faithpaw wanted to get training over with as soon as possible the next day. The sooner he finished it the sooner he could go see Siftpaw. He'd spent all night thinking about her, lying awake imagining all the things they could do together, that they _would_ do together. So the next day when he woke up he immediately tried to speed off, but he was held up by a call from the warrior's den.

"Faithpaw!"

He paused and turned around. He knew the cat. Fallenleaf. His mother.

They never talked anymore. When he was very young, up to about 4-5 moons, they'd been pretty close. But after that, when the other kits started picking on him, it sort of died away.

"Oh, hi...Fallenleaf." he wasn't sure whether to call him mother or not.

"Faithpaw," she said, padding closer, "I was given a report by Windstorm that you're slacking and not doing well in your training. That you just cannot learn to fight and your hunting is well below average."

"Yeah, I know," he mumbled, looking down.

"Do well, or you won't get good stuff when your older."

"I....what?"

"Just, behave. You've already embarrassed me enough with your lack of friends. Please don't fail everything you do."

She walked away.

Her words hurt. They stung his chest, dented his self-image. How could these cats not realized their words did hurt? That other cats had feelings too? Or did they just want to hurt his feelings?  
He felt down as he walked alone to training. Started thinking more about his flaws again. Almost told himself he was weak and worthless. But stopped himself by thinking of Siftpaw and what they'd be able to do this afternoon.

At training Lightpaw, Sunpaw and Mouspaw weren't there.

They're mentors were there though. But not Windstorm.

"Where is everyone?" Faithpaw asked, even though he hated speaking up.

Spottedflight looked at him a little nervously, "They had some business to attend to together. Windstorm instructed us to tell you to hunt until sunhigh. And then head back to camp, that she'd meet you there."

"Are you guys going to hunt with me?" He asked.

"No, Windstorm said Petalstripe wanted us to go on a border patrol together. By the old Twoleg house. That's where we'll be if you need us."

They sent him off and then left.

He was alone in the training hollow, confused. Why would all four of them be gone, together? What were they doing? He was curious and a little worried. But all the same he set out into the forest, switching on his senses.

But why hunt? He didn't want to hunt until sunhigh. That would be a while. He wanted to meet Siftpaw. And if he wasn't doing anything for training today, and she probably wasn't anyway, chances are she could be at the beach or nearby.

He turned toward the lake and started to walk, looking forward to seeing her. What would they do today? His paws trembled in anticipation. He wondered if it was wrong to care this much.

He suddenly caught the sent of Lightpaw. And Windstorm. So they'd been here earlier. The sent was fairly fresh.

He followed it a little.

It was heading to the beach.

His heart started to pound. What were they doing down there?  
He paused, thinking hard, eyebrows furrowed. Think, think...he told himself. Cats didn't usually visit the beach. Maybe they were-

A scream. A cat's scream, female of course. From the beach.

He was already running. He knew the voice, he knew it so well. He knew her. He was running fast. He didn't know he could run this fast. He couldn't see the forest around him. Were his paws even touching the ground?

Siftpaw, Siftpaw, Siftpaw, Siftpaw, Siftpaw, he thought with each bound. I am going to come, I am going to help.

She screamed again. He was dizzy. He was moving too fast. He was flying. He couldn't' even feel the ground.

"I'm coming!" he tried to cry, but it came out as a half-rasp. He was breathing really, really hard. His heart was pounding in his chest. His legs felt like rubber.

"Siftpaw!' He rasped, 'Siftpaw!" He saw light ahead in the trees. The beach. He was here. He was here, Siftpaw was here and she needed-

Cats. One on each side. Flanking him. What? Mousepaw. And Sunpaw.

They were trying to cut him off. They were moving so fast. He had to get past them. They veered toward each other, in front of him. He barreled into them. He could feel his bones hitting theirs, could feel them crunch against him, hit the ground and roll. He bounded, bounded, bounded. He felt claws in his rump, in his tail. They were trying to pull him down. He had to stay up, because Siftpaw was screaming again...

"NO!" He screamed, and his voice was so loud, a shriek, a scream, calling back to Siftpaw. He broke free from Mousepaw and Sunpaw and rocketed into the clearing.

Siftpaw. Windstorm. Lightpaw. They had her down on her stomach. Her head was shoved in the water. In the water...her back was bloody. The water was staining pink.

Everything, everything inside him, everything he knew and cared about broke, just snapped when he saw it. Everything, everything he lived for, would live for, had lived for poured into him, into this moment. He flew down the beach, slammed into Windstorm. His claws her like talons. He stabbed them into her, grabbed her and threw her toward the forest. Trampled Lightpaw. He was moving too fast to stop as he reached Siftpaw and wrenched her out of the water. She was weak and limp in his jaws. He yanked her up to the beach, higher, higher, away from the blood-stained water.

Water dripped off his nose. What? He didn't care. He held onto Siftpaw, refusing to let her go.

But then they were back. All four of them. They grabbed her and pulled. Pulled harder than he could hold against and he didn't' want to tear her scruff so he let go. He watched them surround her. She screamed, fur flashing amongst them. Blood splashed the sand. Splashed his white fur.

He wasn't even thinking. He sprang onto them, tore into them. They shook him off. No. No, this couldn't be going on. He had to be hurting them, had to be killing them, because he wanted them to die.

"Grab him!" He vaguely heard Windstorm scream, and Mousepaw sat on him, crushing him into the sand. And he watched, he had to watch as they shredded her, as they ripped her. He couldn't breathe but he didn't care because his life didn't matter anymore. Because Siftpaw was here, she was in danger, and she was-

She was going to die.

He would watch her die.

He knew without a doubt they'd kill her. And he was going to have to watch it.

They'd planned it, planned this. Lightpaw was angry at him hitting her and this was her way of getting back. They'd watched him, watched him with Siftpaw, saw how much he cared. Plotted and planned.

And now they'd kill her.

He saw the sand in front of his nose. The water was from tears. He was crying very hard. And now...he could do nothing...nothing...

And they would get what they want, they'd get to kill Siftpaw and watch him suffer, watch him try to help, watch him cry. And laugh. They'd laugh because they have gotten what they wanted.

It was like he exploded. All of a sudden, he wasn't even thinking, he wasn't even sure if he was acting, because suddenly Mousepaw was flying through the air, and so was Windstorm and Lightpaw and Sunpaw. They were running then. Bleeding hard. Why were they bleeding? Why were they running?

They were running from him, because he was running after them. They'd barely gotten into the forest before he landed on them.

And then it just happened. He wasn't even in control. He stabbed his claws into Mousepaw's throat and raked downward. He watched as her flesh shredded and peeled and her eyes rolled back. He clamped onto Sunpaw's scalp, broke her skull. And he was slamming, slamming Windstorm into the ground again and again. She wasn't even moving, was cold and stiff and he kept slamming her, kept slamming until he'd heard her ribs and legs crack multiple times.

Lightpaw was still there. She was backing away, trying to escape. Tripping over the remains of Sunpaw. Her eyes were huge, round with fear. She was terrified for her life, and he loved it. He slammed his claws into her jaw. Something flew through the air and he saw her tongue hanging, hanging. He pierced his claws into her face, into the eyes round and glassy with fear and slammed the other into the back of her skull. He twisted her head hard and there was a crack. That was it, that was how easy it was to kill her. But still he threw her against a tree, pounced upon her and shredded her, shredded her body, tore her stomach. And he was pounding, pounding his claws into everything, every bit of flesh he saw. Pounding and pounding, and he couldn't stop. The emotion that had consumed him was something stronger than anger, stronger than hatred. He didn't even know what it was.

He was breathing hard. That was what finally got him to slow down his frantic pounding. He could hear it rasping in his ears. His mouth was open, his eyes wide and his pupils tiny.

Pound. Pound. Pound...pound...pound...he began to slow it down, trying to stop.

Finally he slumped down onto his chest and just lay there, listening to his heart, to his breathing. He could smell the gore, smell the blood. He looked up at the trees. Their trunks were splashed in blood and clumps of dirt. Bits of fur floated around the clearing.

And it was quiet, so very very quiet. He closed his eyes for a moment.

The birds, the bugs had gone silent. All he could hear, if he listened very close was the sound of the steaming blood cooling.

They were dead.

They were dead.

They were _dead._

Lightpaw, Sunpaw, Mousepaw, Windstorm...they were all _dead_.

He got up. He saw his paws as they got up. His entire front legs were red. Dripping. His face felt sticky and wet. His body fur was matted.

The remains of the cats he'd so brutally slaughtered, so brutally beaten to death were hardly recognizable. The gore was putrid, was vile. Disgusting. The separated legs, the blasted-open skulls. The signs of craziness.

A crazy, crazy murder.

He turned, started to leave. Paused and looked back.

He had done this.

It had all been him.

He had no idea what to feel. It was as if he was blank of emotion. Empty. White.

He stumbled through the woods. The beach was close. He staggered out onto the sand. He saw the blood, Siftpaw's blood. Tears built up in his eyes. This had all...this had all gone to hell. Siftpaw was gone, he had done something so incredible, so incredibly wrong, and...Siftpaw was dead. And he was crazy.

The tears leaked down his cheeks, dripping pink onto the ground, stained by the blood of the cat's he had killed that stuck to his cheeks.

He staggered over to the biggest blood splat. Dug his claws into the sticky sand. Felt a wail, felt tears in his throat. Siftpaw was dead. Those bastards, those fucking assholes had killed her. He could kill them again and again, in the most brutal way possible and it still would not make up for what they had done.

They deserved more than to die. He wanted to kill them again.

He screamed, yelled into the bloody sand and buried his face into it.

"Faithpaw!" it was a feeble cry. Who? Who...was? He slowly raised his head. A tabby was by the water, struggling toward him. Siftpaw...she was...still alive?

"Siftpaw," he rasped and the tears flooded his eyes, blinding him. He stumbled down the beach, tripping over his paws and when he reached her he enveloped her in his body, twisted around her as tight as he could. It didn't even occur to him that she might be wounded.

"Faithpaw," she whispered and he knew it was okay, knew that it was all okay.

He wasn't going to let her go this time.

"Siftpaw," he sobbed into her fur. She was very, very warm. He could smell blood on her, or maybe that was coming off of him. "Siftpaw, I-I killed them," he sobbed, "I beat them to death."

"It's okay," she rasped, "I heard."

"I'm sorry," he cried, emotion starting to choke him, "I couldn't control it at all."

She felt him tighten her grip on him and realized she was wrapped around him too, she was holding him too. She was there, there for him. She was with him.

"Siftpaw," he rasped as his tears dampened her fur, "Siftpaw, I-I, I really like you." He was stammering, tripping over his words in his hurry to get them out, "I want to be with you, all the time, it's all I want. I-I know it, I know I-I love you, I just always have to see you and if you weren't h-here I wouldn't care about living, I live for you, I-I swear it, please, Siftpaw, I just want you, I want to be with you, I can't even explain it, it-it's just that I need you and I-"

She gently pushed his head into her fur and he squeezed his eyes shut. "I know," she murmured, "you don't have to say it."

"Please stay with me," he murmured, heart breaking. The smell of her, the presence of her, it was all he wanted...it was okay as long as she was there.

She was quiet, holding him again her, letting him hold her to him. He finally realized he was lying against the sand, so was she and they were gripping each other with their paws. A long, long time passed and Faithpaw just cried, cried into her and held onto her.

"Someday," she finally whispered softly, mouth close to his ears, "Someday there will be happiness here, and everybody will get along. Someday that is going to happen, and nobody will want to hurt anybody else."

She paused for a while. "But that day isn't going to be in our lifetimes, and all we can do is make the best of what we have, and fight towards it."

"Do I have to let you go?" he murmured.

"No," she whispered back, "You don't ever have to let me go."

**Probably the darkest, saddest thing I've ever written. The relationship between the two of them makes me want to cry. I can only imagine what it would be like to be Faithpaw and feel that way about another person. To care that much...wow. :( **


	9. Nine

NINE

Faithpaw stayed there with Siftpaw for a long, long time, well into the night. They sat side by side, not saying anything.

"Faithpaw..." Siftpaw murmured, "I'm sick."

"I know."

She glanced at him. "...I could die."

"From being sick?" He gave a short laugh and wrinkled his nose. "How could you die from being sick?"

She turned away and stared at the sand again. "I dunno. I just can. That's what they tell me."

"Oh."

"What if we just...ran away?" Faithpaw asked tentatively after a pause, "And then you wouldn't have to worry about what they said and...and I can't go back." tears clogged his throat, "After what I did."

Siftpaw didn't say anything for a while. "I'd have to be careful," she muttered, "I'm not allowed to hunt on my own...or run. But I run anyway."

"How would running hurt you?"

"Just does."

"But...could we?"

Siftpaw shrugged. "I guess."

"We need to decide where we'll go," Faithpaw said with a smile.

"We could go...beyond horse place. By the mountains?"

"Yeah! I bet there's lots of territory there. And we don't even need something big, just something where we can be alone with nobody to bother us and you-"

"Siftpaw!"

"There calling me," Siftpaw hissed urgently, getting to her paws, "I have to go."

"No!" He said, "Why don't we leave now? I can't be here! I can't go back, I have nowhere to go!"

"I have to go," she said, eyes huge, "I can't be here."

"But what about me?" He asked, already starting after her.

"Just...stay there!"

"Come back soon!"

At that moment some cats burst out of the bushes on the ShadowClan part of the beach. They paused for a second, spying Siftpaw hurrying toward them, Faithpaw farther away. He realized she was limping, that there was something wrong with her awkward gait toward her Clanmates.

"Siftpaw!" Said one of the cats and rushed forward, the rest following.

Faithpaw came closer. They were going to take her away! He already knew, he already could tell that that was how it would be.

"Wait!" He called.

"Who is that?" One of the cats hissed.

"Siftpaw, what are you doing down here?" Asked the cat who had first spoken. She bowed her head and flattened her ears, looking away. "I was down here with my friend."  
"From another Clan? Do you even realize how far of a walk it is from the camp to here?"

"I'm sorry mother," Siftpaw murmured, hardly audible.

Faithpaw reached them and skidded to a stop. "Siftpaw," he whispered, "Come back."

She didn't look at him.

"Siftpaw, do you want to die?" Her mother hissed, leaning closer. But Faithpaw saw her eyes looked sad. "I'm just trying to protect you! I'm always looking out for you, but I need you to meet me half way."

Siftpaw said nothing, lowering her head even more.

"Siftpaw, don't go with them," Faithpaw urged her. "Come on. Remember what we said we'd do? We already have plans."

"Why didn't you tell me about this cat?" Siftpaw's mother rasped, glancing at Faithpaw, "Why didn't you tell me this is what you went to do every day! Siftpaw, you can't sneak around like this! It's dangerous when your like this!"

"I know," she mumbled.

"Don't listen to her!" Faithpaw said. He came over and put his paws on her tail, holding her there with him.

"Be quiet!" Siftpaw's mother spit at him, "You have know idea what's going on, _ThunderClan cat_!"

Faithpaw flattened his ears.

"Where is he?"

"There! Down at the beach! I see him!"

Faithpaw spun around. A group of cats were emerging from his side of the territory now. He recognized them. Midnightstar, Spottedflight, Amberleaf.

They ran up and stopped in front of him. Amberleaf glared and bristled at the ShadowClan cats, who hissed and spat back.

"Siftpaw...what do we do?" He whispered, meeting her round dark eyes. She looked scared.

"Hold on," she said. When he did nothing, she added, "To me," and he grabbed her tail in his teeth.

"Get him down," Midnightstar said, dark, stoic.

Amberleaf and Spottedflight shoved his head into the dirt. He coughed and choked, struggling to keep a grip on Siftpaw.

"mmrf," he managed.

"Get out of here, ShadowClan," Midnightstar snarled, "Get off my territory."  
"Gladly," Spit one of the ShadowClan cats, "And teach your apprentice some boundaries."

"He isn't our apprentice," Midnightstar hissed. She beckoned at Amberleaf. "Take him," she said.

Faithpaw was wrenched back, across the sand. His paws slipped from Siftpaw's tail and he immediately floundered forward, kicking up sand. "Siftpaw!" He yelled, "Siftpaw!"

"Shut him up!" Midnightstar spat.

Spottedflight stomped a paw down onto his jaw, but he kicked her off. He burst forward, flying across the sand, "Siftpaw! Siftpaw!"

She looked up at him, eyes hidden by shadows and sadness. Her Clanmates stood around her, almost like a barrier. Growling at him. Her mother's teeth were bared, her eyes flaring.

"Siftpaw!" He cried, "Siftpaw!"

Amberleaf stomped on his tail, stopping him. He cried and screamed, reaching for Siftpaw. "NO!" He sobbed.

"Faithpaw," Siftpaw murmured. Her voice was so dark and sad. It scared him. She looked down at the sand in front of his paws. "Go."

"Siftpaw..."

"Go, Faithpaw." She briefly met her eyes and in that instant he knew, he knew that there was nothing either could do, that there was no way he could hold on to her now.

He began to cry in earnest. Midnightstar, Amberleaf and Spottedflight together grabbed him, pulled him back. He looked at Siftpaw, found her eyes. Reached a paw forward as he was dragged backward across the sand. "I'll come back!" He promised, "I swear that I will come back again!"

"Wait for me!"

He knew she would have to wait for a while.

A paw slammed down upon his skull, sending him spiraling into darkness.

–

Water dripped, his back itched. He lay in uncomfortable, sticky darkness. The only light was a few cracks to his left.

Faithpaw slowly raised his head. His body hurt, ached badly. His joints felt stiff and worn. He staggered to his feet and stretched in the darkness.

He padded slowly over to where the awkward shafts of light were. They were coming from a crack in the darkness. He peered out. He could just see what looked like some sort of tunnel, stretching upward to the light. Roots and mud caked the walls.

He pulled away and stared around in the blackness, trying to get a feeling for where he was. His eyes began to adjust and soon he could just make out what looked like the fresh, mud walls of a den. He ran his paws along it and found it wasn't big, probably large enough to hold him and one other cat tightly. One side of the den was cool, like stone. He guessed he was at the bottom of the tunnel and someone had rolled a boulder in to block his way out.

He sighed and sat down. He was having trouble being worried, having trouble getting scared and wondering why he was here. It was like he didn't even care. Well, he did but...

He could hear cats outside. He pressed his ear to the stone.

"Is he in there?"

"Yeah."

"Are you bringing Greenspots down here?"

"Yep, she said she'd be here in a second."

"Alright."

"What are we going to do with all the bodies?"

"You mean Windstorm, Lightpaw, Mousepaw and...I forgot her name?"

"Yep."

"Well, it's going to be hard to bury them what with them being in so many pieces like that. I suppose we could bury them on location."

"Isn't that against the burying ritual though?"

"Who cares about ritual?"

A brief silence.

"There's Greenspots."

"Alright. Let's open up the cave."

Faithpaw drew away from the stone until he was pressed against the back mud wall of his cave. He stared into the darkness ahead of him. A few seconds passed and then the little cracks of light grew larger until light was flooding the den. He squinted and narrowed his eyes. He watched as the two cats, he couldn't see because of the light stepped aside and allowed who he assumed was Greenspots in.

The boulder rolled shut behind her but Faithpaw was sure the two cats were still out there.

"Oh my, it's dark," Greenspot's voice came just from his right; very close. He felt her brush against him and realized how small the cave really was. "Mind if I get comfortable?"

When he didn't respond there was a hustle of activity in which Greenspot's fur mingled with his. He turned his head away.

"So, Faithpaw..." she began, voice soft. "I'm just here to have a little chat with you."

He said nothing.

"I'm curious...how old are you as of now?"

The question seemed harmless, so he responded, "Almost...twelve moons."

"I see," she murmured, "Perfect. Now...Faithpaw...you see, you've come of age. We've been watching you lately and have noticed your sudden growth. There are several things...your loss of kitten fur, the increase general muscles on your body...we've decided you have basically become a full-grown cat."

Windstorm's words started to seep back to him.

"I'm sure you yourself have noticed a change in how you feel...What with so many she-cats surrounding you, I'd be very surprised if you haven't yet had a strong desire to mate with one or many of us. Which is exactly how you should be."

He heard her change position. "In conclusion, you are ready in our opinions to breed. The original course of action was to let you choose your mates while living above in the camp with the Clan, but we have decided it will be better and safer to keep you down here, after what happened to those apprentices and poor, dear Windstorm in the forest."

His stomach felt light and weak.

"We've already selected your first five mates."  
At his silence, she went on. "They are strong, young, able cats eager to raise kits of their own.

"We expect you to be obedient and perform to your best."

She paused for a long time, as if expecting him to say something, but he didn't. He was sweating hard, not just from the cramped cave but from the other cat beside him.

"So long," she said neatly and went and rapped on the boulder. It slid open and she padded out.

The boulder was kept open and Faithpaw saw several other cats had arrived beside the two who'd been talking earlier. A couple of them padded foreward, into the den. The boulder was closed, but a large crack was left open. White light shone into the den, illuminating the dust floating about.

The light crossed the faces of Faithpaw's two newest visitors. The boulder had been pulled farther back so the cave was bigger. The two cats sat down next to each other against the stone, with him across from them. He stared, squinting into the light.

"Hello, Faithpaw," Said one of the cats and from the voice he knew it was Midnightstar. The other, he could tell by the reddish fur, was Amberleaf. She was smirking.

"I hope Greenspots told you everything," Midnightstar sneered, "But more importantly, you better go along with it." She held up a paw, claws unsheathed, "We wouldn't want you making trouble."

Amberleaf laughed loudly.

"You'll be staying in here for a while," Midnightstar told him coldly, "And it'll be up to us when you get to get out. _If _you get to get out."

He said nothing, panting and sweating in the heat and stuffiness of the cave.

"Now, about that she-cat we found you with..." Midnightstar mewed slowly.

"The sick bitch of the weakest Clan," Amberleaf sneered, jumping on her leader's pause.

In and instant, without a thought Faithpaw was up, flying at Amberleaf and grabbing wildly at her neck, throttling her, holding her up, shaking her. He was yelling, yelling in fury and hatred. The boulder was thrown open and several cats leaped in, pulling him roughly off and shoving him down in the dirt. He was breathing very hard, sweat pouring down his forehead. He glared up at Amberleaf as she was escorted quickly out of the den.

Midnightstar just glanced at him, face in the mid.

"Huh," she growled and spit at him. She turned and padded out, beckoning with her tail for the other two cats to follow.

"Spottedflight can come in when he's cooled down a bit," he heard Midnightstar growl as the boulder was rolled shut and he was left in darkness again.

A long, long time passed. Faithpaw lay curled up, trying to sleep. He was so hot and the air was so old and stuffy that he had to breath very hard and fast just to get enough. He was probably bathing in his own sweat.

Many hours had passed when the boulder was finally opened again. He knew it was Spottedflight padding in, but he didn't raise his head. The boulder was closed after her.

After a long time of silence Spottedflight muttered awkwardly, "Well, I think everyone has already said what I'm supposed to say."

He said nothing, staring at the mud on the ground in front of him.

"Um...listen I'm really sorry all this had to happen, I know you weren't treated the best but all the same you shouldn't have killed those cats. Still I'm sorry this had to happen, I didn't know they'd do this I'm...sorry."

She bowed her head and said nothing. Another long pause went by and she mewed, "Well, I guess I've got nothing more to say."

He heard her pad away, but he spoke just before she knocked on the boulder.

"Listen, Spottedlflight..." he paused, unsure if he should go on, "About that cat, the tabby one I was with at the beach...What happened to her?"

Spottedflight said nothing for a long, long while, turned away from him. Finally she cocked her head toward him a little and mewed softly, "I...I think she was taken away by ShadowClan. She's...safe."

"Thank you," he muttered.

She paused again. Finally she tapped on the boulder and padded out.


	10. Ten

**LOL GUYS LIEK I'M SO SRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN FOREVERZ! I LIKE COULDNT I HAD VACATION TROLOLOLOL!1!11!1eleventythirteenbagillion**

**Okay, no. I _am_ sorry for not updating in so long, but really there was nothing getting in my way but being fourteen, fandoms, coming out of the closet ._., my art etc...so yep, sorry. It was only your guys' reviews and messages of ff where are you bitch that got me to write the next chappiee...but here it issss.**

**This chapter is six months after the previous one and Faithpaw is still in the cave. The point is he's aged some, so I guess you could think of him as being about..fifteen, sixteen? Give or take...**

**I keep forgetting im not on deviantart...**

**Btw, human swears in this one. I know it's not right in the Warriors world and I really don't care. I need them to be as effective as I want. If you're bothered by swearwords then you really shouldn't be reading a PG-13 rated fiction. This is a mature fiction with mature themes. Deal with it.**

TEN

Thirst. Horrible dreams. And hunger, but not for food.

Those became Faithpaw's best friends. The sat on the nest next to him and whispered in his ear.

Sometimes he wondered if he was going crazy. It had been a long, long time since he'd last seen sunlight.

After the first moon of being trapped in the cave blocked by the boulder Midnightstar stopped coming to talk to him, stopped sending in other cats. Nobody visited anymore. He wondered if they had forgotten him, at first, when he went for five straight days of nothing. And then someone cracked the boulder aside and threw two mice and some wet moss in.

The wet moss was heaven. But it wasn't enough. He lay sideways on his nest, stretched out, eyes open in the pitch blackness and panted. Panted and listened to the sound of the air rushing in and out of his throat. It was made of sand.

Left with nothing but his thoughts.

All he thought about was her. Every

time his mind strayed off it flew back moments later. Everything else seemed to connect to her.

There was the horrible, frustrated impatience, the desperation to break out and find her, to take her away and make sure she was safe, to protect her...to know where she was, what was going on. That was awful. Sometimes it became so hard to bear just being stuck here, unable to do anything, not knowing that he cried out in agony and kicked against the boulder. Why wouldn't it move.

And then there was the longing. That was probably worst of all. Longing and wishing he was anywhere but here. That he was there, with her. That she was here, with him. As long as they were together.

The horrible dreams. In all of them he saw the faces of Lightpaw, Sunpaw, Mousepaw. Windstorm. Broken faces that were cut open, gouged apart but wouldn't bleed. Siftpaw was never in those dreams. Only the others. In the hours he was awake he would torture himself by forcing himself to remember in clear detail what had happened, how he'd killed them. For his sins, he knew he had to pay.

He felt older, somehow. Six moons passed trapped in the darkness, underground. That does something to a cat. The cold, stale air creeps into the skin and gets inside the bones maybe. The darkness, the emptyness. It leaves a mark.

Maybe it was he just didn't feel so small and...young. The hunger? That was all for her. Hunger for every part of her. He was rarely hungry for food. He didn't want to eat when he wasn't moving.

He finally got another visitor six, seven moons later. It could have been more. He'd lost track of time. He felt so _old_.

The visitor was a she-cat. He didn't recognize her. Not be sight. Her scent smelled faintly of WindClan, but he wasn't sure if that meant anything. She wasn't from his Clan at least.

They pushed the boulder open and let her in. He didn't know who they were, just that they were there everytime it was open. Faithpaw lapped at the light, closed his eyes, bathed in it. Let it push warmth and life back into his fur. After moments it was creased shut again. This time there was someone else in the cave with him. She reeked of life. Her breath was loud, her lungs still so lively. They hadn't been breathing dead air for six moons.

"Hi," she said. Her voice sounded very very young but he couldn't be very much younger than he. It wasn't like new kits were being born. "I'm Raintail. You probably don't know me, I'm from WindClan..." she trailed away, allowing him a place to respond he didn't fill. "They wanted me to come talk to you...I'm like an errand cat, heh heh..."

He didn't speak. Wasn't sure if he could, actually, but more than that he just didn't want to.

"They said they're going to be sending you a she-cat...Echopaw. She's of my Clan too, only I'm already a warrior, heh...They said.." she paused, as if trying to remember the exact words. "...'you know what to do with her.' I don't know but there you go."

A long pause. She waited, he could hear her fidgeting. Could hear her breathing, could hear her mind thinking, processing his silence. Then she turned and scratched at the boulder. It was opened and she left.

Faithpaw coughed, tested his voice. A rasp. A dry rasp. Coughed again. Managed to get a bit of a tone. Eh. That would work.

Several hours later the boulder was opened again. This time he lay without moving, didn't turn toward the light. Felt its warmth on his body but didn't blink, didn't even look over as the new cat entered. His lack of caring was so immense he could feel it.

He heard the cat sit down. Heard her breathing. Not as loud as Raintail's. Just a quiet in out, in out. After a bit she scuffed one paw.

"Hey there."

"...hey." His voice was a dead cat.

"Um...well you probably know what I'm here for..."

Didn't answer.

"I'm not sure how to go about this, uh..."

He coughed hard. Had to get these words out right. "ShadowClan. How is ShadowClan."

"Fine?"

" me."

"We're...at war with them." Echopaw, that was what Raintail had said her name was, said vaugely.

"Why?"

"Don't you know?"

Didn't reply.

He could feel Echopaw looking at him. "Well, Midnightstar has shown us to the light. She showed us the right way and that we don't need StarClan as long as we trust in her."

He blinked. ...what?

Echopaw went on. "But some dirty minded cats don't agree with her and they still fight her. Those cats will not be saved. They will not be shown enlightenment." He could see the disgust in her voice.

"Why are we at war with them?"

"Midnightstar says the Clans will be healthier if they unite. WindClan, my clan already said okay, we teamed up. We are smart, we understand that one big Clan means no more war. But ShadowClan refused. Midnightstar says we will show them that is not okay; We have already invaded deep into their lines and claimed some of their territory." Echopaw said, "RiverClan rebelled too. But we recruited some of them after only a few attacks because they're weak. Several still rebel, I think they teamed up with ShadowClan."

"Have you seen a tabby she-cat? Gray and brown with white splotches. Big dark brown eyes...beautiful eyes. A ShadowClan cat."

"I don't know," Echopaw said. He could almost hear her shrug. "I haven't been fighting. But I can say any cat who doesn't' see the light, any cat who doesn't see how wise Midnightstar is is blind and dispicable."

He let his muscles relax, set his head back down. Stared at a far point of the cave wall.

"...about what we have to do."

"No," he mumbled, "No. Only Siftpaw."

"Who..?"

Silence fell for a bit.

"Um they're going to check if I have..." Echopaw sounded incredibly young, incredibly unsure and frightened. "Please just..."

"No," He said, with a little more force. He could hear tears behind his voice. Tears and a lot of pain. The wails of a little, broken kit.

"Um..."

A voice shouted from outside. "Hurry up!"

"Listen, please-!"

"Go," Faithpaw growled, "Get out."

"They'll kill me!"

"Get out!"

She scrambled backward. Her fear filled the cave and thickened the air. "Please!" She gasped, "Please, Please!" The boulder opened, she was yanked out. He heard her wail escalate into a scream. "Please, please, I'm sorry, he wouldn't-No! NO! NO!"

He closed his eyes. Listened but tried not to hear it. Distracted himself with the information Echopaw had given him. Most of ShadowClan was now part of ThunderClan then? And maybe WindClan too...So that meant Siftpaw could be out there, could be just out there. Nearby.

He had to get out. He had to get out.

A week later the boulder was ripped away. Not cracked open, not rolled aside, but moved far far away. He raised his head, blinded by all the light. By the trees, rich with leaves in the sunlight. Grass bushes and mainly, faces. Faces peering in at him. The ones in the front were cold, unforgiving. The ones farther away were more curious.

"Get him, get him," he heard them ordering each other and before he knew it he was being yanked forward, paws and claws tugging at his flanks, his shoulders, his neck. He didn't struggle, just let his muscles relax as he was manhandled out into a grassy stretch leading away from his prison.

"Get his lips."

Someone slashed across his muzzle. Blood bubbled into his mouth. He winced, doubled up in pain. Tried to bring a paw to his mouth but some cats held it down. A moment later the same claws got his eyes, both of them. He whimpered, the kind of whimper that's a cry that gets stuck in your throat. His mouth hurt too much to open and now he couldn't see.

Teeth in his scruff and on the loose skin around his spine. He was being tugged forward, dragged across the damp grass and the moss below him. He cracked open an eye, saw the heads of the cats pulling him, saw the heads of other cats, bystanders, staring at him. Saw trees creating a canopy in the sky.

"There she is. Stop. Stop!"

The tugging stopped. The cats all stood back, in a rough line. Stood up tall and stared straight forward. He almost felt like he should do it too.

A cat walked into view. Walked slowly, confidently, but with tense muscles locked in place. Flanked by two other cats that followed closely behind her. Midnightstar, his leader.

"Is this him?" She asked the cats behind her. They nodded.

Midnightstar looked down at him. Looked at him like a cat inspecting some prey for maggots. Looked into his squinting, blood clouded eyes. "Sit him up."

The cats around him yanked him up, yanked him up roughly and forced him to sit up. He let his head sag.

"I want you putting him with the soldiers," she said. Her voice had no care. Like she was reciting off a mental list covered in lines for her to say. "He's already been through basic apprentice training so he should know how to fight, but he'll need the new updated soldier training, okay?"

"But isn't he the only male-" stammered a brown and gray she-cat with a trembling mottled tail, shaking under Midnightstar's gaze.

"Just because he's the only male doesn't give him any more rights than the rest of us, shitface!"

She turned now and looked at Faithpaw. He could feel her eyes staring at the top of his white head. She lifted his face up with a paw.

"You disobedient prick," she snarled. She seemed extra big, unusually large. That huge face, that giant snarl. The extreme mass of her muscles. "I send girls in there for you and you don't give me what I want." She stabbed her claws into his skin and jerked him hard, back than forward, forcing his face to look up into hers. He swallowed on his on tongue, his own blood running into his throat. "Don't you dare give me shit. Don't you dare!"

Shook him again. He could feel his brain shaking around his head. Blood started to ooze again out of the cuts from the other cats.

"I'm going to teach you what happens to shits who make the wrong decisions." his face was too close to hers, she was spitting, spitting into his eyes. He could feel his breath struggling in and out of his nose, hissing. "You disobey me, you get payback. Got it?"

He tried hard to nod, knowing if he didn't she'd shake him again. It must not have been enough because she did anyway, kicking him also in the stomach so he curled over, but she held him up by his head. His neck strained. "Do you get it?"

"Yes," he said around his own mouth.

"Your going to war," she snarled, "You're going out there and you're going to fight and you're going to do what we tell you as long as we well you."

He nodded hard. Her other paw was digging into the back of his neck. It sent pain all the way down his spine.

"You're going to go get briefed now. My cats will show you the way. There'll be other soldiers there, rookies like you. You don't speak to anyone unless you are spoken too. Okay?"

He nodded again.

She leaned in closer now, and added, "If you ever, ever say anything about that sick little shit we found you with after you killed your own damn Clanmates, I'm going to make you eat your own shit. Got it?"

He stared at her yellow teeth, the flecks of saliva flying from them. Stared and felt hatred roiling inside him, felt it consume him, felt it control him and make him go mad. He tried to pull back against her hateful grip, but she wouldn't release him. Tried harder and harder. Giving her a look at the tips of his fangs. Strained against her claws.

Suddenly, he was moving backward and he thought for a moment that he'd broken free from her, but then he realized it was really just her shoving him back into the dirt. His back had only just made shattering contact with the hard ground before she landed on top of him and she started to bang her unsheathed claws rhythmically into his nose. Smash, smash, smash, smash.

He tried to raise a paw up to stop her but she held it down. It was over a second after it started and he almost couldn't remember it happening. She stood off him and he slowly rolled over, curling onto his side and caressing his face, holding his bleeding nose. His throat was closed, he couldn't breathe.

At least that meant he couldn't find air to cry.

"Make sure you teach this shit the way things are now," Midnightstar muttered in a growl to her followers, and then she turned and walked off, flanked by her flankers.

Faithpaw's nose bones were broken, he could feel at least one of them shattered inside. He realized dimly he was lucky Midnightstar didn't manage to hit them up into his brain, killing him.

…he almost wouldn't have minded.

Many of the other cats left then. He just lay, eyes closed, caressing his face and feeling so utterly and completely unhappy.

Once again, it was just the thought of Siftpaw, the possibility she was alive out there somewhere that kept him moving, that got him to drag himself to his feet when the other cats tried to raise him up. Then they lead him and he had to walk all on his own out of the camp, which was just full of cats, more cats than ever, and out into the forest. It wasn't long they traveled before he was dropped off at a clearing that had once been the training hollow and left alone.

There were five other cats in there, females. Four of them looked unsure and healthy, clean paws, neat pelts. Faithpaw recognized them. Raintail, one of the cat's who'd visited him in his cave, and Swiftpaw, from his Clan. He wasn't sure if she was still apprentice. Then there was a cat that smelled of WindClan that he didn't know. The other was Echopaw. She had a paw wrapped in a messy cast of twigs and cobwebs and herbs. He was surprised she was here. She looked away when he looked at her.

The fifth cat was older, bigger. From his Clan. Hawkfeather, a she-cat who had always seemed tough seemed even tougher now. Scars and matted gray and brown fur. Ragged claws. She paced in front of the cats, but stopped and looked up as he arrived.

"Sit down. Clean up your face." she ordered.

He did so, gingerly trying to wipe the blood off his nose.

"Why are you here?" Echopaw whispered to him. When she turned to him he realized her far eye was squeezed shut and swollen. Injured with claw marks.

He shrugged, looked away.

"I'm here because I didn't mate with you," she replied to his silence, "They said this was my punishment. As well as my wounds."

No need to reply, he thought. Didn't much care.

Hawkfeather started pacing again. "You five wussies are here for a reason," she ground out, "Even if Midnightstar doesn't say it, cats like you are the most important right now. You're the fighters, the whole reason our Clan is getting bigger and prospering so much."

She turned to look at the five of them gathered there. "But there's rules here. You gotta do whatever I say, or whatever a higher up warrior says when they say it. If someone tells you to lay down your life so your Clanmates can succeed, you will do it. If someone tells you to kill, you will kill. We are not playing kit-games anymore. This is different. We fight to kill. You get an enemy in your claws, you will kill her. Or she will kill you. You choose one or the other. You will not address your enemy. You will not speak to her as if she is another cat. Because she is not. She is despicable shit and she deserves death for not seeing the nirvana Midnightstar clearly provides. Am I understood?"

Everyone nodded frantically. Even Faithpaw. It took him a moment to realize that he'd done it.

"I don't really care who you are, and I don't care about your problems," Hawkfeather told them, "I don't care about what it is you care about and I don't care about what it is you don't want to do. I just want you to do what I tell you and prove yourselves out there. If you want to make me like you, that's all I need."

More nodding.

"Here's how it works. We've got several units with four to six warriors stationed in various places throughout ShadowClan and RiverClan territory. We are doing what it takes to take over their damn territory they don't even deserve. We've already claimed quite a bit of it, but the enemies still fight us because they're stupid enough to think they can get it back. We're sending you guys into RiverClan, you're going to be fighting with several other squads to get farther and farther into the territory, and we'll stay there overnight to hold it. Is it clear?"

Nodding and yeses.

"First though, you need some training. Sure, you've all done that soft kittypet play we used to consider 'warrior training' but that aint anything like real war." she flexed her shoulders, showing off some deep, old scars embedded there. "I gotta teach you how it really works."

–

Then there was the training.

Faithpaw failed it miserably.

He knew he would, and he did. Hawkfeather planned for them to train for three moons before sending them out into combat. She trained them hard. She fought them, she made them fight each other. Claws out. She simulated real situations and made them go through it.

Faithpaw always seemed to be the one pinned down.

Hawkfeather yelled at him, told him he needed to work harder, he needed to show some effort. He needed to get anger behind his strike.

He tried hard. He tried even harder. He tried his hardest.

He still failed.

Even Echopaw, the injured, littlest one, got him down every time.

Sometimes he thought of how he'd managed to kill Lightpaw and Mousepaw and Sunpaw that one awful awful day. He tried to remember what he had done, but there was nothing but a lot of red and fury.

But he managed to make it through the three months of training.

Then it was time for war.

Hawkfeather briefed them again before hand.

"Here's how it works. You guys show us a good two years of fighting, you show us that you're worthy, we let you off and let you be part of the Clan and you never have to fight again."

She had everyone's attention.

She stopped pacing for once and held up a paw. "Two years. We need two years."

She stood up, shook out her muscles. "It's war time. Come on, you pansies.

–

There wasn't even fighting right away.

Hawkfeather lead them into RiverClan territory, past the border Faithpaw used to remember and recognize. So much had changed. The trees, the grass seemed grayer and gloomier. The sky was covered in clouds but it was still bright. The forest was quiet, quieter than it should be anyway. No birds singing. No bugs in the grass. The dead leaves and twigs that broke under their paws were extra noisy.

In the distance you could hear war.

Cats began to come into view after they'd been in RiverClan territory for a good while. Cat's from Faithpaw's Clan and cat's from WindClan as well. One of them bounded up to Hawkfeather. Behind her, past her, Faithpaw could see cat's fighting. He didn't look long or hard enough to determine how it was going out there.

The new cat, Faithpaw didn't know her name because she was clearly from WindClan stopped in front of Hawkfeather and the four behind her. She stood up straight and dipped her head swiftly before addressing her.

"It's good you brought those four. We're totally swamped out here. Several fresh forces from ShadowClan have arrived."

"Balls," Hawkfeather growled, squinting her eyes at the war. One cat, from WindClan, ran howling over toward them, rump bleeding profusely. She screamed, a high scream like a rabbit when you bite it's neck as a RiverClan warrior bolted after her and pinned her down, bowling her roughly over and violently ripping out her throat.

Hawkfeather grunted in distaste as some of their forces went after the killer, surrounding her in a ring of snarls she disappeared within. Hawkfeather turned and looked at the four warriors following after her. "Okay, you four. Time to prove your worthy. Get out there and push these bastards back. Faithpaw and...Echopaw? You two, take the left side, see if you can flank them. Raintail and Swiftpaw, you keep an eye on them but I want you taking the center. Find some other cats to fight behind, because I'm sure you wussies won't be able to take anyone on your own yet. Got it?"

Yeses and nodding all around.

"Get out there and show them what we've got!" Hawkfeather yelled.

Echopaw started to run. Faithpaw jerked foreward, stumbling after her. He kept an eye on her black and white tail as she moved through the trees, heading around the left side of where the warring cats were.

"Echopaw-" Faithpaw said desperately, his frantic, cowardly heart fluttering in his chest, "Let's bail. Let's get out of here. Run back to camp."

"No, we have to fight," she said without looking back at him or slowing, "It's our duty."

"We're going to die," he whined, "I don't want to die yet."

"We aren't going to die if we protect ourselves."

"Do you WANT to fight or something?"

Echopaw stopped and looked at him. Her blue eyes were round shaped. "No, I don't," she said softer, a lot of the cold tone gone from her voice. "But I'd rather fight where I Have a chance then go home and get beat apart again for failing."

Faithpaw looked at her, fidgeting with nerves. Oh god, he was so scared. His mind replayed the brutal murder of the fleeing WindClan cat he'd seen just earlier. Oh StarClan, oh StarClan, pelase, please watch over me, he prayed. He knew they weren't listening.

Echopaw's gaze softened a lot. "Come on," she said gently, nosing him into a standing position. "Let's get out there and do some fighting."

He followed her the rest of the way through the trees.

They reached the edge of where most of the cats were fighting. The woods here were quieter. The sound of war was muted.

The sound of birds and animals was too.

"Here," Echopaw whispered, "Get down and we'll try to slink up and see if we can take out some cats from the side."

She was really made for this.

They got on their bellies. They slithered through the grass, they slithered through the bushes. The came closer and closer to the fighting. It got louder and louder. As every second passed Faithpaw got more and more scared. His heart was a trapped bird again. It didn't have wings though, so it couldn't fly out to a more promising cat.

He wanted to bail so bad.

He wanted to turn around and run and run and leave this fucked forest behind forever.

But Siftpaw was still there somewhere.

And as long as he knew she might be alive, he was going to do everything he could to get back to her.

Some cats came into view. A party of three RiverClan cats, trotting closer to the fighting. Tails and ears pricked. Alert, but unaware. Off to war.

"On my mark," Echopaw whispered into his trembling air. His eye twitched in response.

"...now."

Echopaw stood up fast and bounded like a panther out of the bushes, crouched and leaped hard, bowling over one of the cats over. The two of them went spinning and spinnign and then they were one unit, one flying unit of screaming and fur.

Faithpaw followed. His legs did, anyway. He was just moving, and then he was leaping, and he was attacking. Blindly he slashed at the gray fur he saw before him, blindly he clawed. It was okay at first, he was doing fine. Until the cat's claws sliced over his cheek and the pain took him over, distracted him and he fell back onto his back. The cat leaped upon him. He didn't even get time to realize he almost had died before Echopaw cut the cat down with one mighty slash of her bloodied claws.

Then it was quiet. The RiverClan patrol lay slain. Echopaw was breathing hard. "Sharpen your senses, Faithpaw. Wake up," she hissed at him. "I'm not going to be able to save your ass next time."

"Yeah," he said, nodding and cradling his cheek. She paused to peer at his injury. "That's isn't that bad. You'll get worse. Let's go."

She started off again, slinking with quick precision through the grass. Faithpaw followed and glanced once back at the killed patrol. He felt sick inside seeing their dead, helpless bodies. He didn't linger on it, he looked away and pushed it out of his head. He had to endure two more years of this.

"There," Echopaw said, pointing ahead. Here they had reached the edge of the main fighting. "We're going to go there and take over and keep moving deeper. See that ginger on the left? You take her, I'll take the black one."

"Yeah," Faithpaw said with a shaking nod.

"Good luck, wuss," she hissed as she flitted forward, still unseen. This time he didn't wait to follow her, just started to move again. Fell into a steady bound and then he went right for the ginger, who had just broken away from the ThunderClan warrior she'd been fighting. He just flew right at her and slammed into her hard. Squeezed his eyes shut and clawed at her. Suddenly she was down and his fear took control. It ripped out her head and threw her body aside.

And then there was a cat right after her. He fought her down too. Then another. He fought. He fought hard. He was all claws, all moving claws and a snarl that hurt his mouth. He was behind his paws flying around him and his mind wasn't even involved, it was just his claws and the desperate desire to kill them before they killed him.

It loosened several hours later when more ThunderClan and WindClan warriors arrived to fight with the him and Echopaw. They managed to move deeper into RiverClan's territory and leave markers.

And then it was quiet there. Finally the remaining enemies flew back into their own territory and they settled down for the night.

Faithpaw lay by Echopaw at the base of a young oak tree. He licked his wounds. There was a medicine cat on scene but she was busy, treating a long line of wounded warriors, warriors wounded way worse than he. Cats with the flesh hanging off their shoulders and things, cats with limps twisted the wrong ways. Cats missing ears, cat's missing eyes. His scratches didn't seem to bad.

"You did good today," Echopaw said, turning to look at him and giving him a smile. She had one eye closed, a scratch riding over it. "You found some strength."

Faithpaw shrugged. "I think...it's just fear that keeps me fighting."

"That's how it is for most of us," Echopaw told him, "But I'm glad. I hope we get to keep fighting together in the future."

He nodded and turn back to his wounded paw.

"You don't say much, do you?" Echopaw asked after a short pause.

He shrugged.

"You know...I've been watching you during training and stuff...so what's your story?"

"My story?"

"Yeah. You seem like you've seen a lot of the world, more than most your age."

"...not really." He shrugged.

"More than me anyway," Echopaw said to him,

He laughed, short, nervous. Titled to his head and inspected his paw. Then he managed to get out, "I'm...kind of looking for someone."

"Hmm?"

"A ShadowClan apprentice that I met about nine moons ago."

"What's so special about her?"

He shrugged. "She's just special. I want to find her."

"ShadowClan are our enemies."

"I know...but the only reason I'm still around is because I think maybe I can find her by fighting this war."

"Wow."

"I just want to get back to her. So we can be together."

Echopaw blinked at him in interest. "She's a lucky cat."

"No she isn't."

Echopaw turned away and kept nursing her wounds. "Eh. We should probably get some rest. See you in the morning." she rolled over and placed her head on her paws and was silent.

Faithpaw turned the other direction and squeezed his eyes shut. He saw Siftpaw's face tattooed on the inside of his eyes. She made him sick. So sick with longing.

**This wasn't edited very well, sorry. And sorry again for the really slow update. But hey you get a long chapter! /brick'd But I've got my heart and inspiration back into this story and plot and I'm excited to write more. Part one of the story is finished and this chapter kind of begins part 2. Which is, unfortunately, as dark and depressing or even more so than part 1. Faithpaw is a grown cat now, basically. Sorry for all the long time shifts in this chapter, but I need to start speeding up his growth. **

**My apologies for the late update. More coming soon.**


	11. Eleven

ELEVEN

"...Because in a forest united by exhaulted Midnightstar, hail, we will finally prosper. We will not be left to fight for food, for the little we have. All of us will flourish in good health in a united forest- free of the rebel slob that plagues us now. Soon we will win against their week armies and become strong. Free of the war that sickens us now, free of the dirt who do not see the true light. Under only Midnightstar, hail, can we achieve this prosperity, can we rise above what has tied us down since the beginning of time..."

That was what Faithpaw woke up to everyday for the next moon at war. Shadowclaw, one of the combat commanders would walk amongst the sleeping warriors, waking the ones not on watch up with a load of propaganda.

Echopaw told him to just tune it out.

He did.

But he couldn't tune out the war.

A lot of the time, it seemed he didn't even see combat. No, he was just sitting at wherever they had made camp and waiting, waiting for instruction, waiting to be necessary. Most of the time he wasn't. Just backup, waiting. Waiting constantly.

Echopaw waited with him. They were apparently a team. They waited, they talked.

Time passed.

Faithpaw longed for Siftpaw more and more everyday.

A moon. Two. Three.

The time dragged on and on the third moon he was allowed back home. For a day.

–

"Why are they letting us go home?" Faithpaw asked Echopaw as he cleaned himself down like he'd been instructed, licked the dirt and blood off his white fur.

Echopaw met his eyes, wiping her chest fur clean. "I'm not sure. Hawkfeather just instructed all of the newer soldiers go back to the camp for a new mission or something."

"At the camp?"

"Who knows? Maybe they want us to guard or something."

She was partially right. Faithpaw, Echopaw and several other cats were lead back out of RiverClan territory, through WindClan's, and into ThunderClan until they reached the camp. It was fuller than he had ever remembered, filled with a combination of the two Clans. They stopped and stood at attention in a line.

Now Hawkfeather stepped up. She had a scar of her eye, and it was closed. "Listen up!" She shouted. Faithpaw saw some of the cats that weren't fighting in the war behind her, watching them in interest. "While we've all been out fighting our way deeper into the RiverClan filth's lines, some other of our warriors have been busy with ShadowClan!"

Faithpaw's ears pricked. He couldn't help it. ShadowClan. Siftpaw.

"Knowing our strength and fearing annihilation, ShadowClan has made a contract with us. That's what they call it, but to us it sounds more like a pitiful plea for help. It goes as follows..." she stopped pacing and squinted out at the small crowd of cats, reciting.

"To the leader of ThunderClan, Midnightstar, I, Sorrelstar, leader of ShadowClan send a compromise for peace. Although we are strong and will remain to be, we do not see the point of such a ruthless war, and many needless lives are being lost. We understand you would like to expand your Clan and your borders, so in this way we offer you the following in exchange for the war to be ended. Seven of our cats, still in the prime of their lives, and an entire third of our territory to be rightly yours. All this could be yours if you just promise to leave us in peace."

There was a bit of silence on the gathered warriors. Heads turned upward as a black she-cat leaped off the Highledge and strolled casually over, her tail up. The cats she passed all straightened up and dipped their heads until she had gone by.

"Are you telling them about ShadowClan's plead?" Midnightstar asked Hawkfeather, who stood at full attention.

"Yes, Midnightstar."

Midnightstar turned with a sickly grin to look at the gathered cats. They all straightened up a bit more. "Pretty sad, isn't it? It's like they think we're so stupid we can't hear that they're practically begging us to stop. We've totally got them by the balls and everyone can see it. I'm surprised they're still trying to keep their dignity at this point."

It was clear everyone was wondering the same thing: would they go for it? But Midnightstar was obviously trying to draw out the answer by spewing more hate at ShadowClan. Stuff about them always being the weakest, always being difficult, getting what they deserved, learning their place...

Finally Midnightstar coughed and looked over at the cats. "So...they've shot this big peace treaty our way. Offering seven of their cats and a huge chunk of their territory. Do we take it? Well, yeah we do. Hawkfeather. Tell them about my plan."

Hawkfeather leaped to her feet and addressed the gathered soldiers. "Midnightstar, hail, has thought up a quite genius plan. We send all of you guys over there along with me as if to fetch the cats and claim the territory. We get the cats they've picked out for us, and a couple of you will take them back to the camp. Once they have all been safely escorted out, we will make our move. Minus seven warriors, ShadowClan will have shrunk greatly. We will use this chance to attack them and kill all remaining and claim the entire territory."

"What about the cats we bring back?" One of the warriors near the back asked.

Hawkfeather looked at her coldly. "The ones fit for fighting we will send out as soldiers. The remaining will be servant to Midnightstar and her top warriors. But, back to the plan...we will have to select three of the twelve of you here to escort the cats back to our camp. How about...Shadowclaw, Echopaw...and Faithpaw."

His heart was thumping in his chest.

"Tonight we are going to attack," Hawkfeather said, "And it will be a full takeover. We will prevail. Tonight we are really going to start feeling the fire of victory. No longer will we ever be regarded as the soft-hearted ones. Now I suggest all of you go and shine your claws and wet your muscles. Move!"

Echopaw immediately began to tug Faithpaw away, back out of the camp and into the forest. He was half -dragged after her, stumbling over his own feet. Finally he twisted around and broke free.

"What are we going to do?" she hissed.

"What do you mean? We're going to go through with the plan!"

Echopaw looked at him with round ice blue eyes. "So you mean your okay with going into the heart of ShadowClan and slaughtering them all?"

Faithpaw blinked. That wasn't how he thought. He obeyed rules. "We have to."

"What if we rebelled."

"Guard," Faithpaw hissed, as at that moment a warrior strolled by, eyes narrowed suspiciously. She slowed a bit as she passed them but Echopaw just sharpened her claws a bit and the guard passed. The moment she was out of earshot Faithpaw turned back to Echopaw and hissed, "This isn't the case where we rebel, why are you even thinking about that!"

"I'm just not comfortable doing some sort of a...I don't even know! A genocide!"

"I'm not rebelling, Echopaw. Anyway, I want to go into ShadowClan. We're going to be escorting the cats back to our camp, we might not even have to fight for most of it."

"You're so damn weak!" Echopaw hissed. The fur on her spine stood up like an army waiting to attack. "You aren't ever going to think for yourself!"

He was surprised and scared by her sudden anger and he shrunk down a little bit. Her fur relaxed, her expression changed from anger to remorse. She sighed, shoulders slumping. Got to her feet and took a few steps away, back turned.

"I am thinking for myself," Faithpaw mumbled self-consciously, knowing he sounded stupid. "But what I want is all based on one cat."

Echopaw glanced backward at him. "That apprentice, huh. You want to go find her."

"...Yeah?"

"Huh. Well. I guess that makes sense then."

"Yes."

"...I don't really see why you're so attached. She could be dead for all you know."

"SHE'S NOT DEAD!" Faithpaw shouted, leaping to his feet, a snarl ripping across his small features.

Echopaw gave him a look bordering on disgust. "I hope you find her anyway." This time she started to run, she ran all the way back down into camp.

Faithpaw didn't follow. He didn't have good memories of camp. He sat there, sat there in the forest looking at his claws and fuming. Feeling so young in a body much too old. Feeling much too old in a body so young. He got to his feet and began to wander through the forest.

Bringing back thoughts of his childhood. The forest, the empty forest. The prey he would hunt. Hiding from Lightpaw, Sunpaw, and Mousepaw. The walk down to the beach. The beach...

Would it be safe to go there? He probably wasn't allowed. But then again, he was a soldier. He could just say he was on guard duty.

All the same, his stomach churned with anxiety as his paws started to lead him to the stretch of sand he would meet Siftpaw on. His favorite place. The sand would sometimes sparkle. He missed that. The water was so pretty. He missed all of that. Mostly just being alone there...

...and then she would appear from the bushes on the ShadowClan side and walk over to him...

He closed his eyes for a moment, turned his nose up and inhaled deeply, pretending it was her soft tabby fur he was smelling rather than the empty, silent air. He could almost, almost imagine her standing in front of him.

"If you were here right now," he murmured, voice a bit raspy, "Would you want to run away with me like you did earlier? Would we do that?"

He thought of the empty territories beyond the forest, all the space. The whole world. So many possibilities and so much freedom. Just him, and her. And freedom and peace and calamity. He wanted it so bad he could taste it. So bad it made his legs hurt and so bad tears blossomed on the edges of his closed eyes and trembled there.

Not too far from the beach now. He could see ahead where the trees ended. It would be nice to lie in the sun and remember Siftpaw before he had to go back to camp and get ready for the attack.

"Hey, cat...!"

He stopped his reminiscent walk and turned around, looked around and saw a guard coming. A WindClan guard, older than him.

"Hey, where are you going?"

Faithpaw coughed and shuffled his paws, trying to act in control. "Just...going to check the beach."

"Nobody's allowed on the beach. Too obvious. Go back to camp, they're rallying you guys for the attack."

"Um...already?"

"Yeah. Go. Come on. I'll lead you back."

"You don't have to..."

"Yeah I do. Let's go."

He reluctantly started after the guard. His eyes strayed to the light coming through the trees and he thought about how close he was to the place he loved back with so many memories. He itched to break away and run down there, just to see it. But he didn't. He just watched it until they swerved deeper into the forest and the light from it was gone.

–

"This is it. This night is a major landmark in ThunderClan's new reign! This night every one of you will feel our power and will feel the blood of victory in our sweet veins!"

Amberwind, the ThunderClan deputy spewed propaganda as Hawkfeather rallied together the twelve warriors to go on the attack. The commotion was terrible. Cats everywhere, those who didn't fight were running around the soldiers and trying to get in and ruffle the lines, calling out good lucks and how powerful ThunderClan was. Faithpaw stood with Echopaw and Shadowclaw. Echopaw wouldn't look at him or address him. If he hadn't been so distracted he would have minded a lot more. He was frantically trying to remember his instructions. As soon as ShadowClan had handed over the seven cats, he was to rush them back to ThunderClan camp with the two others, and then return immediately to the fighting. It seemed really complicated, even though he knew it wasn't.

"Move out soldiers!" Hawkfeather bellowed, and then they were racing out of camp. The cats left behind hollered and let out shrieking war cries. Everyone's blood was burning.

"Go! Go! Go!" The twelve warriors charged forward in a big group, over toward the stream that used to be the ShadowClan and ThunderClan border. Splashed through it as if it didn't exist. Faithpaw was caught up in a tangle of paws and bodies and pure sweat, strength and adrenaline but he somehow managed to keep from freaking and fainting, somehow managed to stay on his feet and keep running and running.

"Tonight, our strength will write to us in ShadowClan's blood!" Hawkfeather yelled as they went thundering past. The sound was deafening. The energy was deafening. Faithpaw felt numb by the time they began to slow down. Approaching the ShadowClan camp. A couple of little warriors were positioned about thirty yards out, and as soon as they caught site of the twelve plus Hawkfeather arriving, they turned tail and fled back to camp to bring the news.

They went into the camp. Single file, slipping through the brambles at the entrance. Faithpaw's paws were shaking, his eyes huge. He kept his eyes on Echopaw's black and white tail in front of him. Then he emerged out into the clearing. Blinked in the light, even though there wasn't much. ShadowClan was gloomy and dark. He came forward and stood in the line beside Echopaw. Stood and tried to keep the attentive position.

But his eyes searched. They started at one side of the clearing, at the first of the many cats gathered, half-hidden in the darkness, eyes glinting, quiet, nervous. Started at them and kept moving, probing, searching. Desperate. She had to be one of them. Soon. Soon he would..

A cat stepped into view, cutting through his search. Obviously the ShadowClan leader.

She said nothing, just dipped her head to Hawkfeather and then glanced back, gesturing to the cats behind her.

Out of the ranks of them stepped one, and then another followed. Then another. They walked heads down, paws shuffling. Didn't look at anybody. First one, then two, then three, then four...then five...then six..

The seventh he saw her. His heart jumped into his throat. He started to tremble harder. Her head was up, she wasn't walking zombie-like like the rest of them. She was trying to merge back into the crowd. She was talking with someone, pleading. Rapid voices struggling to stay hushed.

"No mama, mama please, no, no-"

"Go, go, you have to go. Go, it's better than this. Go."

"Mama please, mama-"

"Go, you'll be safe there. Go. Go."

"Mama-"

"Go!"

Siftpaw was kicked out of the darkness into the light, she fell away from the crowd. For a moment, everyone looked at her. Lying on her stomach, paws splayed in front, hind legs tangled beneath her. For a moment she just lay there weakly and then she slowly dragged herself up and shuffled over to join the other six.

That's her! That's her! He wanted to say something. He wanted to call out to her so she would see him. Oh how he wanted to. For a moment he choked himself up, stopped breathing as the blood rushed through his whole body, giving every nerve ending an electric shock of feeling. Every sense trembled.

Siftpaw, Siftpaw, it's me, it's me, it's me, it's me...

His thoughts. He almost thought he was saying them.

Sorrelstar was saying something to Hawkfeather. He couldn't look away from Siftpaw. She sat head down like the others. Obviously shamed.

Look up, please...look up...

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sorrelstar gesturing around, probably showing Hawkfeather what territory they would be receiving.

A moment later Hawkfeather turned and faced the warriors. She looked at Faithpaw, Shadowclaw and Echopaw. Faithpaw's eyes still remained on the tabby and white she-cat in the little crowd of seven.

"You three." Hawkfeather said in a dark undertone. "Go."

Echopaw moved. Shadowclaw moved. Faithpaw was stuck. Echopaw turned back and grabbed his scruff, yanking him forward so hard he nearly fell on his face. He jumped to his feet and began to walk numbly behind the other two. They stopped in front of the seven ShadowClanners. Waited until they had all gotten to their feet. And then they lead the way out of camp.

Faithpaw couldn't look back. He knew she was behind him. Walking. So close. Touchably close. A breath away. And yet he couldn't look. He kept his eyes glued to Echopaw's pelt. His breath fluttered in and out of his nose, hardly reaching his lungs.

A scream from the camp. Followed by a war cry.

"NO!" Shrieked a shrill voice behind him. Echopaw and Shadowclaw looked around, and he was able to then as well. It was Siftpaw. Why did it have to be her? She was screaming, screaming and crying and shrieking and scrambling back toward the camp because she could hear them, she could hear her Clanmates cries and wails of terror and shock and pain. She could hear it and he knew she could.

"NO!" Her voice was wracked with sobs. For a moment, Faithpaw's vision was blackened as a boulder, a boulder of emotions slammed into him, nearly knocking him out. Want, want to incredible and raw, want for her and everything she had, want for everything about her. Pain, dead pain at hearing her pain. Hatred at what he as well had to hear going on at the camp. And deathly jealousy that she had a family to cry for, that she had those she valued.

Shadowclaw and Echopaw had lept forward, and they pinned her into the ground. Held her there, and she writhed. Writher and cried. Voice broke under the weight of her captors and her own tears. Cried in hopeless agony, like a rabbit who knows the wolf has it finally.

And Faithpaw just stood there. He did nothing.

"Now come ON!" Echopaw snarled dangerously to Siftpaw, jerking her up into the crowd. They started to move again. Shadowclaw lead, Echopaw just behind.

Faithpaw didn't turn around. He stared, eyes huge at the distraught she-cat.

She looked up. Her dark, dark eyes looked up and they saw him. They saw him and for a moment he saw that she was registering, was still registering who she was and then her eyes flew wide.

He wanted to talk. He had nothing to say. He began to walk, stumbling half-sideways. Eyes glued to hers. Hers glued to his. His chest crackled with connection.

"Faithpaw!"

Echopaw was calling his name. He blinked slowly, and it was like a film covered his brain as he looked way from her and up at the black and white she-cat.

"Faithpaw, get going! We have to hurry!"

Get going, Faithpaw. Right. He quickened his pace, but his eyes slid back to Siftpaw's. She held his gaze. Held it without blinking. They walked beside each other but with a cat or two between them, and they're gazes touched each other.

She was still the same, still so beautiful to him. But she...she was a lot different. She was so much bigger. So much older. Her face had lost that scruffy cuteness.

Her eyes were so dark. But they were also hard to look at. Very hard, actually. They hurt his stomach to see. Because it was like looking down at a clearing full of gravely wounded cats, gasping as they lay dying together in a smattering of their own blood. Her eyes were so full of pain, and they were so, so much older than any other eyes he felt he had ever seen. They scared him.

Suddenly, they were in ThunderClan territory. His eyes didn't leave Siftpaw's. And then they were walking into the camp, and cats were everywhere, peering, poking, prodding, asking a rabble of questions in rabid curiosity.

"Lead them to the dens," Amberwind said as they arrived. And now Faithpaw looked away from the cat he watched so raptly, looked away and cut in front of her, making it clear she was to follow him, and strode rapidly toward one of the nearest dens, clearly empty. Many had been added since he had lived and slept in here, but he didn't care who's they were now. He just strode over to that den and shoved his way inside. Siftpaw was two seconds behind him. She emerged inside the dark concealment and immediately the two of them went to each other, and he shoved her roughly against the wall of the den with more strength he knew he had and she reached up and grabbed his face between her paws. He did the same, and their foreheads bumped violently together. He could hear her breath, her heavy, harsh breathing. Could hear his own mixing with hers. He lowered his eyes, stared half-lidded at her nose, at her whiskers arranged so elegantly over her mouth. "...look at you..." her whisper was barely audible.

"I love you..." his lips sounded out. Only the thinnest rasp of air traveled between them. "...i love you..."

Her breathing sounded so loud but so enticing and her paws were warm against his face and he could feel the tips of her claws teasing his fur. He wanted to smother himself with her fur and her paws and her smell but he forced himself to push away, forced himself to break away from her. He knew they both knew they had very little time.

"Look at how big you are..." she whispered. Her mouth danced with a slight smile.

"I was thinking about you all the time," he said earnestly, feeling that he had to tell her this, if anything at all. "I was thinking about you and thinking about you and I knew I would see you again." he moved back up to her, pushing his face into her chest fur and she lifted her paws and placed them over the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and felt her warmth.

"I waited for you," she murmured, "I waited for you just like you said."

"Everything's okay now," he said, and his voice broke. "Everything's going to be how we wanted it."

"Faithpaw! Faithpaw!" Echopaw was calling him.

He broke away. "I have to go." He hesitated. He didn't want to leave.

"Go," Siftpaw said, pushing him with her nose. "Go, hurry. Don't get caught with me."

"Right...I'm...I'm going to be back. Stay here. Stay..here." He scurried out of the den and ran over to Echopaw an Shadowclaw.

"What were you doing?" Echopaw growled, "We have to go!"

Several new warriors had gathered. Midnightstar stood at the lead. She was yowling. Yowling and laughing and then she charged out of the camp and they all followed. Lots of warriors, running off for the ambush.

They were at the ShadowClan camp in no time. The smell of blood was achingly strong. Screams came from inside. The new warriors ran inside. It was already clear ThunderClan was winning by a long shot, but several warriors still stood and fought bravely. "YES!" Midnightstar screamed as she threw herself onto one of the warriors. "THIS IS IT! THIS IS IT!"

Some more ThunderClan warriors arrived, leaping into the camp from all sides. They carried flaming wood. Obviously retrieved from the Twolegplace. They threw the torches onto the dry brambles, the dens, the trees. At first there was nothing, but then the flames surged upward, licking at everything. The orange sparkled and flashed. It made Faithpaw whole body tremble with senses.

A warrior, a warrior hard with adrenaline and terror and desperation leaped at him, pulling him down onto the ground. Faithpaw flipped over frantically and the two grappled together a bit, before another ThunderClanner joined the fray and the ShadowClan warrior was brought down and brutally slashed open by the stomach.

Then there was the laughing. At first Faithpaw didn't know who it was. The flames were everywhere. They were burning everything. Cats were burning. He saw a ShadowClanner run by shrieking in pain as fire melted her skin away. The Midnightstar appeared, black and framed by the fire, and she grabbed the cat, flipped her over, and slit her down the length of her small body. Then she laughed again. Laughing a crazed laugh. She doubled over, rolled on her back. Nobody attacked her. If there was any remaining ShadowClan warriors, they were dead. But he could see a few of them on the ground, trying to crawl to the darkness, away from the fire. But they didn't seem to realize their haunches were torn off, or their insides were spilling out of their thin, baked skin. Why didn't they realize? Why was that cat, the one with a burned off thigh still trying to drag herself over to the darkness?

He felt sick. So sick that he had to turn away and puke everything inside his stomach into the flames.

And Midnightstar was laughing. Laughing and moaning and dancing in the destruction. In the ShadowClan warriors still trying to get up, still trying to live. The other ThunderClan warriors stood about, giving her a wide berth.

"YES!" Her voice was ruined by the smoke and her own shouting and yet she still managed to be heard by everyone. "OOH, YES! YES! Ha. HAHA! AHAHAHAHAHA!"

She kept laughing, but Faithpaw couldn't hear anymore. He saw again the cats so brutally injured, saw the cats trying to push their bleeding intestines back inside their bodies, saw the flames taking away everything, taking away the ShadowClan camp and sending it right to the dark forest in an army of smoke. Saw Midnightstar, watery blood from her enemies dripping off her smoking black fur, laughing, saw his Clanmates with blood on their paws and he couldn't take it. He turned around, took a step forward and swayed on his feet. Lurched forward, barely managed to stay up. Dragged himself over to where the bramble tunnel had once been and collapsed. Closed his eyes. Closed his eyes and closed his ears and closed off everything until he was just floating in darkness.

** So sad. War is awful. Make peace, guys. :/**

**This chapter was a bitch to write. It was harder than I thought, trying to get everything to flow the way I want and also getting ready to incorporate the rest of the plot. It's probably only going to be fifteen-twenty chapters by the time it's done but the chapters are so long it's going to end up being longer than the original. Anyway, I hope you guys like this one. I know it is pretty morbid and dark but eh, it's a pretty dark story if you haven't guessed yet. So any predictions?**

**At this moment I would like to give a little commemoration to Hollywood Undead, the band that inspires me so much to write this story. I'm not sure why, but the anger and emotion in their music really helps me write emotion. I listened to 'City' by them on repeat while writing the scene with ShadowClan burning. Very effective.**


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